No Country for Young Heroines
by noncynic
Summary: When Drakken and Shego get involved in a revolution on a small Caribbean Island, Kim sets out to discover what they're up to, and gets a few surprises. Then a return visit lands her in unexpected troubles..
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Kim Possible, any of the other characters from that show, or those from any other media I may reference in my stories.

This story takes place early in Kim's junior year of High School.

* * *

Betty Director was in the middle of a discussion with her aide, Abby Hogan, prior to her morning briefings, when something new in the notes she was perusing caught her eye. "Isle Drakkon? That's....I was going to say a Caribbean Island?"

Abby, a statuesque blond in her early fifties, a field agent for twenty years before taking her current position, nodded. "That's right! Not one of the better known ones, not even to us! Not an ideal location as a way stop for drug traffickers, or possessed of great natural resources. Not enough for the US Government to really pay attention to, as long as their politics aren't 'Red'."

"And now they're having a revolution? How does this concern us directly, Abs?"

"Let me see what I wrote..." Abby took the notes back from Betty and scanned them. "Oh! Last night's notes, didn't update them, sorry! Too busy monitoring the West Coast operation." Betty acknowledged her reason with a nod, "Anyway, we have reports that Drakken and Shego are there, supporting the Rebels."

Betty's eyebrows rose sharply. "All right, tell me about Isle Drakkon."

"Short version, or should I ask Will in to give the briefing?" Abby smirked, then responded to Betty's dangerous look by raising her hands in a warding gesture. "Fine! Be Miss Serious Boss! Well, Isle Drakkon, current population roughly 230,000, robust ethnic mix typical for the islands down there. Got a 'President-for-Life' type in charge at the moment. Economic survey reported that there is enough local industry to keep the islanders comfortable, with a little left over. _IF _it's well managed, which is doubtful at present. Tourism would help, but not runaway tourism. One or two resorts would be just right. Current President, Robert Jean-Baptiste LeMonde, has tried several times to interest hotel chains, but things keep happening to discourage them. Off the record, it's LeMonde himself and his cronies who scare them off, Betts."

Doctor Director nodded, taking it all in. "What about the odd name?"

"Island was first claimed by a Swedish adventurer. Hired a Spanish ship to make the trip, though, and royally ticked off the Spanish court. King of Sweden wasn't all that thrilled, either, but it seems to have been a personal dislike of the man. So he sold, or ceded, the island to the King of France, and let him deal with the Spaniards. Since then it's been mostly under French rule, with brief occupations by Spain in the early eighteenth century, and England twice during the French Revolution and Napoleonic periods. Gained independence in 1954." Abby stopped to take a breath, waiting for Betty's reaction.

It took a minute to come, and only after a quick glance at her watch. "And now Drakken and Shego are there? What are they up against?" She began organizing the papers she was taking to the briefing.

"Well, there's something curious about that. The reported military forces of the Island total 740 men. Police number less then one hundred. Interesting thing is, forty percent of the personnel in each are reported to be non-natives, working under contract."

"Mercenaries? That doesn't gibe with a relatively poor economy. Somebody must have a source of income not in the reports, to pay them off. Unless of course, they're not real mercs, just regular contract police. Anyway, we need more info to go on." She suddenly scowled. "Is Isle Drakkon a signatory to our charter?"

Abby grimaced and shook her head. "No extradition treaty with any UN countries, either!"

"Then we can't do anything about it, anyway!" Betty exclaimed in exasperation. "But I want the situation monitored, we need to find out what those two are up to down there." She rose from her desk, papers in hand, then headed for the office door.

"Want to pass the word to Team Possible?" Abby inquired.

Betty stopped, considered it briefly, then shook her head. "No, not going to send those kids into the middle of a shooting war! What is the level of violence, do we know?"

Abby shrugged. "Not really. A couple of indefinite reports from the US Consul, but he's basing his reports on secondhand information. There's shooting, but no idea how much."

Betty nodded. "Well, then, we don't want Kim in the middle of it! Let's just keep an eye on things ourselves."

00000000000

"I can't believe this happened!" Kim exclaimed loudly, before cringing slightly and looking down through the hatch to her bedroom. She continued in a lower tone, "The 'Stoppable Immune System', Ha! All it seems to mean is Ron didn't catch all the childhood diseases while he _was_ a child, he saved them up for teenhood!" She sagged a bit. "But, he caught it from one of my babysitting jobs, because I asked him to bring me something, so why am I putting it all on him?"

Her best (female) friend regarded her from her reclining position on Kim's bed, textbook opened in front of her. "Because your great plans for the weekend just went up in smoke, and you did all the work arranging it?" Monique suggested. "And he somehow has a history of spoiling such moments?"

Kim huffed, flung up her hands, and collapsed into the chair at her computer station. "Pretty much! Never on purpose, of course, he just has this knack..."

"Uh huh, that boy has a lot of 'knacks', girlfriend! Of course, you're not half as tweaked as Joyce Lindell, she was planning on a date with him, too! But hers was going to be a bit more, um, intimate, if she had her way!"

Kim's eyebrows rose. "Oh, really? She rebounded from her crash and burn with Doug Casey, or do you think she really likes Ron?"

Monique snorted derisively. "I think she's about to 'crash and burn' with her creative writing assignment, and wants pointers from your 'biographer'. Also, Ron's kind of hot, when he doesn't try to be."

Kim had rolled her eyes at 'biographer', now she snorted. "But around girls, he always 'tries' to be cool, and he's so bad at acting that way! But I've heard the same thing before, when he's just acts natural, the girls see something in him."

"Sure, I've seen it myself!" Monique replied, and grinned at Kim's astonished look. "The boy's got something going on, really! You just can't see it, because you don't think of him that way! But it's a real shame he's going to miss that day you planned for the two of you, after all the hard..."

"_Beep Beep Be Deep"_

Kim grinned and punched a key on her computer, bringing the image of Wade Load to the screen. "What's the sitch, Wade?"

"A revolution, with Drakken and Shego involved, believe it or not!" The boy genius replied.

Kim's grin disappeared, and she sat up straighter, brow furrowing. "A revolution? Where? And against who?"

"Isle Drakkon, which is down in the Caribbean. It's barely been mentioned on the news, but there's a revolt in progress versus the ruler, P4L LeMonde." Kim's eyebrows rose, and she glanced at Monique, who grinned. "Drakken and Shego are apparently backing the rebels, for some reason!" Wade put up a map of the island on the screen.

"Hmph! Well, is this Lemonde a good leader, or a bad one? Not that that matters too much, whatever reason Shego and Drakken have for being there has to be bad!" Kim studied the map curiously. "I suppose you could say it looks like a dragon's head, but that would be a stretch." She mused aloud. Monique had come over, and shook her head as she too studied the map. "Big stretch, Girlfriend!"

"Don't think that has anything to do with the name, guys. As for Lemonde, I haven't read anything good about him he didn't have published himself! On the other hand, there's not a lot of concrete evidence to suggest he's particularly bad, either! The usual rumors, but the place just doesn't get much attention from the press, or other governments."

Kim shrugged. "Well, the point is, Drakken's there, so I'd better head there, too! Can you set up a ride, Wade?"

Wade grimaced. "That might be a problem, Kim! There's been an advisory posted against commercial travel to and from the island. Apparently there's a real threat to aircraft, though none have been fired on, yet. Not sure any of your rides is a good choice for this." His fingers danced over one keyboard. "No scheduled flights in, except one! Flight plan filed earlier, leaving Jamaica in five hours. I can get you there, but you'll have to get yourself aboard that flight yourself, they're not selling tickets!"

Kim looked annoyed, but nodded. "Then that's what I'll do! Get me to Jamaica, Wade, and leave the rest to me!"

0000000000

It was getting dark on Isle Drakkon. Deputy Foreign Minister Edouard LeMonde stood nervously inside the terminal of the island's one and only airport, watching a twin-engine transport plane taxiing towards him. The plane seated twenty-eight passengers, and Edouard devoutly hoped all the seats were filled with new recruits for the Government forces. Otherwise, his cousin was going to be very mad, and would almost certainly take it out on him, despite his having no control over the situation.

Right now, less then one in ten of the 'native' personnel in the Army and police were still in the ranks, and a fifth of their foreign hires had disappeared as well, with no more than half of them likely casualties in the fighting. Things did not look good, and fresh blood was needed. Or an alliance, his cousin said. Perhaps with America, perhaps Venezuela. Though the latter would be a desperate measure, his cousin having no love for the politics practiced there.

As the plane rolled to a stop, Edouard straightened the perfectly creased battle dress he wore, checked to make sure both of his bodyguards were alert, and strode out to the plane. If they followed their instructions, the men aboard would not disembark until they had been briefed on the situation, and given a chance to change their minds, in which case they would fly back out on the same plane. It was Edouard's job to see that none of them did, if possible.

A hatch behind the cockpit was opened, and stairs lowered as he approached. He took one more moment to compose himself, then ascended the stairs. His first view of the passenger cabin was encouraging. There were at least twenty-two men present, looking either bored, or anxious to get moving. Most likely half of them were faking whichever they were showing, he thought. And they were not the most impressive looking lot of hired guns he'd ever seen. Still, one had to make do.

He began by introducing himself, and making it clear he was their paymaster, which caused an improvement in their attentiveness, and attitude. He then told them that they would all be enlisted in the Army, as there was little point in wasting their talents on the Police force. He specified their pay, which caused a wide variety of reactions, and informed them that all weapons and equipment would be provided, all of it in good condition, and reasonably modern. Then he fielded some questions.

"What exactly are the limits on our actions, with regard to the rebels, and those we suspect of being rebels?" Edouard had a pre-approved answer to that, but reminded himself that he was the one the words would be attributed to, if things went wrong. Nevertheless, he dared not deviate too much.

"All armed rebels are to be dealt with with out mercy! As to those you 'suspect' of aiding the rebel cause, as long as there is reasonable cause to suspect them, you may treat them as you please. There are no restrictions as to gender, age, or ethnic background, gentlemen." That brought one or two frowns, he noted, but more knowing smiles and nods.

"How well armed and organized are these rebels, and how widely supported?"

"Not well at all, I assure you! They have captured approximately one hundred weapons of various types from the police, and have some civilian style weapons, but that's all!" Which was a conservative estimate, but almost all of the deserters from the ranks had slipped away from their barracks without taking their personal weapons, mainly to avoid suspicion. "As to their support? Well, most people have taken a 'wait and see' attitude. As you may guess, we need you to replace men who deserted, but few of them, we believe, went over to the rebels, they mostly just objected to killing their own countrymen, and have gone into hiding." Which was the actual opinion of the current Deputy Minister of Defense, who Edouard thought was a complete idiot, but his words were useful.

"So, you're trying to tell us this is going to be easy?" Came a skeptical inquiry.

Edouard held up his hands, shaking his head. "Of course not, I'd never suggest such a thing! The rebels gained a lot of ground, literally and otherwise, while we were trying to recover from the desertions, and their morale is high because of it! We'll have to break that morale again if we are to have an easy time mopping them up!"

"And they have no professional help, no hired mercenaries of their own?"

This was the tricky question, but here Edouard thought he could lie a little. "None at all! They've shown no sign of receiving any professional training or guidance at all! They've made most of their victories against small groups of outnumbered Government troops and Police, when they still had the element of surprise, and some of our commanders were unfortunately overconfident! Those men have been removed from command, and some of those vacancies have yet to be filled. Qualified persons would naturally receive higher pay to fill those roles." A little extra incentive never hurt with mercenaries, and the story was basically true, even the promise of higher pay. "So, if you gentlemen have made your choices, please either follow me to the terminal, or remain seated..." He broke off as someone stood up in the rearmost row of seats, shrugged on a backpack, and stepped into the aisle. "I'm not quite finished, yet!"

The individual in question was rather short, and wore a baseball cap pulled low over his _(her?)_ features. She began to walk up the aisle towards him, smiling, and addressed him in a cheerful voice, "Oh, that's all right! Your speech isn't for me, anyway. But don't you think you should have mentioned that Doctor Drakken and Shego are aiding the rebels? I mean, they're not professional soldiers, but still, with all the stuff they probably brought with them, I really think you should have mentioned it!" She passed him as she said this, stepping to the head of the steps, before stopping and addressing the other passengers. "Safe trip home for those who take it! For the others...well, hope it's worth what they're paying you!" And she was gone.

Edouard took a moment to shut his mouth, and he glared at the departing figure before turning back to the passengers. And nearly fled when he saw the looks they were giving him...

0000000000

Kim strode across the tarmac towards the terminal, a faint smile twitching at her lips. She'd heard enough chatter on the flight to make her fairly sure that those men were not a good thing to unleash on any country, and the reception speech had made her certain of her course. Now, she just had to find Shego and Drakken. No matter who the Government was hiring, those two weren't angels, either, and she couldn't think of a 'good' reason for them to be involved in this.

The interior of the terminal was clean, but nearly deserted. Only one of the three booths operated by local airlines was manned, that being the one which had supplied the plane for the mercenaries' transport. Four policemen, two janitors, and three locals comprised the remaining occupants, along with the two men manning the Customs station. Two of the locals had luggage, and were engaged in an animated conversation with the airline reps. Apparently, they were hoping to secure seats on the plane when it left.

Kim headed towards the Customs station, the subject of attention of practically everyone else present, most of whom wore expressions of mere curiosity, though at least two of the policemen had scowls on their face. The two Customs officials managed polite smiles as she approached, pulling out her passport.

"Good Evening, Miss...Possible?" The older looking of the two men had accepted the passport, and managed to keep his voice neutral with an effort as he read her name. The younger man started, and a slight frown crossed his features as he studied Kim.

"Is this business, pleasure, or something to do with a certain green woman?" The older man inquired knowingly.

Kim thought about that a moment, a smile growing on her face. "You know, it's the last, but that means the first two apply, as well!"

"Ah! Yes, I can see how they would!" The man replied, smiling back. His partner, however seemed to be having trouble maintaining a neutral expression. "Well, anything to declare?"

Kim grimaced slightly. "Well, yeah, I have a few things, actually! My mission equipment, mainly! Nothing lethal..." The Customs man held up his hand to interrupt her.

"I think under the circumstances, we can approve your retaining those items, Miss Possible! I would, however, request you go by the American Consulate before you go about your 'business', and talk to the Consul, so he is up to speed on your presence and intended activities."

Kim frowned a bit, but nodded. "I hate to delay getting on the job, but if you think it's best..."

The man nodded solemnly. "I do, Miss Possible. The Isle Drakkon is none too safe at the moment, and I really think special precautions are wise, even for someone as accomplished as yourself."

Kim smiled again, and nodded. "Well, when you put it that way, a good night's sleep.." She was distracted by the two locals suddenly dashing for the doors to the tarmac, suitcases in hand, "..wouldn't be such a bad idea before I get started, since I suspect the Consul has probably gone home by now."

The man shrugged. "Well, his hours have been a bit irregular of late, I'm sure! But, it's probably best to wait for the morning, all things considered! There is a nice hotel just fifty meters from the terminal, you'll see it on your left as you exit the front of the building." He pointed at the front entrance.

Kim smiled gratefully. "Thanks Very Much!" She resettled her backpack and headed for the entrance. She had nearly reached it when the doors to the tarmac opened, letting in the roar of engines as the plane began to taxi back towards the runway. Edouard LeMonde strode in, a furious look on his face. He pointed at Kim. "Arrest that girl!" The policemen were startled, but hurried to obey, as Kim stood still, hands in plain sight, a frown on her face.

The older Customs man looked around, and noticed his partner had disappeared. But he didn't have time to worry about that. He called to LeMonde, "Sir, you may not want to do that, she's..."

"IF I want your opinion, I will put a gun to your head and ask you to repeat it as I give it to you!" LeMonde responded angrily. He turned to the policemen. "Take her to the jail, and give her over to Jailor Dumas! I will be down to prefer charges when I have time!" He then strode past an obviously angry Kim, barely pausing to sneer at her, and left through the front entrance, trailed by his bodyguards.

Kim didn't resist as the policemen took her backpack and handcuffed her. _"Why did I have to be such a smart ass! What difference would those guys...oh, who am I kidding! After what I heard them saying on the plane, I had to take the opportunity!" _The policemen seemed to have varying opinions on how rough to treat her, though no words were spoken. Just an exchange of angry glares when one of them swung her around rather roughly. Then the four led her out of the building, and she spotted LeMonde and his guards departing in an SUV. She was led to a decades-old, at the very least, Land Rover and put in the back, where all the windows were protected by heavy grillwork.

Back in the terminal, the senior Customs man considered his options. After several minutes' deliberation, he picked up his phone and began dialing.

Unseen by him around a nearby corner, his assistant was also making a call, on a cellphone. "Yes!" He whispered urgently, "Kim Possible! This is very awkward, if she is here to fight our allies, then she must be considered an enemy! She was just arrested by that idiot Edouard, but I'm not sure why! But for some reason, none of the mercenaries on the latest flight even disembarked!" He listened for a moment, "Yes, I'm sure she was arrested, it's no trick!" More listening. "She still represents a threat to our movement! If she becomes too much of a threat...no, I am not presuming to set our policy! Tell the leaders, and see what they say we should do about Miss Possible!"

0000000000

The mood in the Presidential Residence(President LeMonde's only concession to modesty was _not_ calling it the Presidential Palace) was rather tense at the moment, as the President discussed his options with the only advisors he actually respected the intellect of, his Minister of Defense and the Deputy Minister of State, who was also his primary problem solver. The Minister of State was a smooth talker, but weak-willed, and LeMonde wanted him nowhere near any confidential discussions.

The meeting was being held in a spacious and well appointed office, with balconies accessed through French doors on two sides. There were guards outside the doors to the main hallway, and in fact a sixty-strong detachment of the best soldiers-of-fortune they'd hired protected the place, supplemented by a purely token group of policemen.

"Well, do we approach the Americans, the Venezuelans, or someone else?" Was the question he addressed to the two advisors. LeMonde was about five-eight, barrel-chested, with an impressive spread to his shoulders. He was also looking very fit, though excessive worry had more to do with that then his diet or exercise regimes. He was now fifty-four, but was nearly completely gray.

"Well.." Began the MoD, "It all depends on whose troops you want landing here to help." He was a bit older then LeMonde, taller and thinner, but possessed of a surprisingly deep baritone voice. "If you can make a case for American aid, they may not like what they see here. On the other hand, the socialists...not my preferred choice either."

"Not troops! Weapons will be enough!" LeMonde responded hotly. "Weapons capable of dealing with that green bitch, and whatever devices that scientist brought with him!"

"And what would you consider such weapons to be? The Americans aren't going to just hand over their best equipment to a half-trained army and some mercenaries, many with dubious reputations, to say the least!" The MoD kept his voice calm and level as he replied. "If we appeal for their help in dealing with a known international threat, they'll either refuse, or insist on dealing with the problem themselves, directly!"

"I'm afraid I agree with my colleague, Robert." The DMoS spoke up. He was the same height as LeMonde, but whippet lean. He was also casually dressed, as opposed to the MoD's tropical-weight business suit. "We have been beneath the American's 'radar' up until now, it would be best to remain so. I sug...." The door to the office swung open to admit LeMonde's personal Aide, who delivered a perfunctory rap to the door as he entered. That he could get away with this kind of intrusion spoke volumes, and the apprehensive looks he received from the three occupants displayed their expectations clearly.

The Aide stopped in front of the President, saluted, and reported, "Sir, I have just been speaking with a Customs officer from the airport. It seems that Kim Possible arrived on the island aboard the plane bringing in our latest batch of recruits!" Even the DMoS, who usually maintained a perfect poker face, couldn't help but gape at the news.

It was the President who managed to speak first. "She must be here to deal with that madman and his bitch! This might be wonderful news!"

The MoD shook his head. "Those two have the rebel army around them, she would have to fight her way though them to solve our problem! And I am not sure she might not end up in sympathy..." The Aide cut him off.

"Sirs, please let me finish! For some reason, your cousin Edouard ordered her arrested, and taken to the jail for the specific attention of Dumas!" Shock briefly flashed across LeMonde's face, to be quickly replaced by outrage. "That IDIOT! If something happens to that girl, I will never get help from the United States! What could have possessed that fool...if he was in a bad mood, I can guess why! He must have failed with the mercenaries! When he gets here, bring him straight to me! But right now, get the jail, and Dumas, on the line for me, at once!"

0000000000

Jailer Dumas didn't look like a monster. In fact, he was as plain looking as could be, usually. He was of medium height, a bit on the heavy side, and balding on top. He was in his late forties, and wore a tan uniform with a pair of combat boots. Useful in dealing with prisoners 'his' way. He occupied the front office/reception area of the jail along with three of his staff, all of them big men well capable of handling themselves. And none of them would do anything to anger their boss, for any reason.

The monstrous side of Dumas lurked beneath the surface, and was rarely seen by anyone other then a prisoner or one of his own subordinates. But it began to stir as soon as he saw Kim led into the room. He didn't recognize her, mainly because he was more interested in what she was, rather then who. A young girl. He regarded her with a feral interest that he quickly banished from his face as the policemen who brought her in began the process of turning her over to him.

This took several minutes, and Dumas wasn't happy about Edouard LeMonde coming 'when he had time'. It limited his options, since he didn't know what LeMonde expected to find when he showed up. Fortunately, none of the policemen mentioned that they had been told to turn her over to him personally, or he would have assumed _Carte Blanche_ in handling the girl. But there were still things he could do. He gestured for two of his men to put her in the room where searches were conducted. The fact that the police took their handcuffs back and none were substituted didn't bother him. But again, he hadn't recognized his new prisoner.

He chatted amiably as he went to the door with the policemen, picking up some gossip, and directly asking if there had been any signs of rebel infiltration of the capital. He had reason to be concerned about that, both for professional and personal reasons. Hearing nothing conclusive, he parted with them outside the main door, took a quick look up at the now-dark sky, and went inside to have some pleasure. Then the phone rang, and his night began going downhill. Scowling fiercely, he snatched it up and barked, "Dumas!"

"Dumas, this is President LeMonde!" Dumas' look changed to one of shock, followed by suspicion, but it vanished quickly, as the voice continued, "A new prisoner just arrived there, did she not?" Now Dumas was fairly certain no one was playing a trick on him, because he knew the President personally, and was certain that this was not an impostor on the line.

"Well, Sir, a female prisoner was just brought in, but whether or not she is the one you are asking about is the question, can you give me a better...." He winced and held the phone away from his ear as he was loudly interrupted.

"I MEAN KIM POSSIBLE, IS THAT CLEAR ENOUGH?" The pain in his ear was almost ignored due to the shock and confusion that swirled through Dumas' brain.

He took so long to manage a response that the President impatiently continued, "I said, is that clear enough, Dumas? You do still have her as a prisoner, do you not?"

"Y—yes!" he managed to stammer, "She is here, Sir! I just hadn't recognized her, that's all! But why is she here, Sir? Do you have any special instructions regarding her treat..."

"I most certainly do! She has been arrested, for reasons I have yet to determine, by order of my cousin, Edouard! Until I find out why, treat her properly! She has been 'arrested', Dumas, but I had better not hear that she's been 'molested'! I know your ways. And if it comes down to her word against you and all your men, I will be taking hers! And no accidents! If something happens to her without _my_ express approval, you'll be reassigned back to the army, and given the job of taking on that green bitch one-to-one, do you clearly understand me? _If_ I don't just lose patience and shoot you, that is! You have your orders, both regarding Kim Possible and your other prisoners, don't fail to carry them out, or you are dead, one way or another!" And he hung up without waiting for an acknowledgment.

Dumas briefly considered faking a proper farewell to the President, for the benefit of his staff, but it wasn't worth it to him right then. Besides, from the looks on their faces, they'd probably never fall for it, anyway. So he settled for regaining his composure, then starting across the office to a door opposite the one to the processing room, while glowering at that closed door, greatly disappointed not to be carrying out the 'processing' of this prisoner personally.

He rapped loudly on the door he'd approached, then entered. "Angelique! Get your lazy ass out here, there's a prisoner for you to process!" He bellowed as he entered. If he had hoped to catch the occupant of the room in an unguarded moment, he was badly disappointed. She was seated in a battered old recliner, foot rest up, reading a two-week old gossip magazine from the U.S..

In her late twenties, Angelique Grenier didn't look much like a prison matron. She looked like she should be out on a beach somewhere, in a barely-there swimsuit and a coat of suntan oil. Right now she was wearing a pair of old brown cargo pants and a white T-Shirt knotted under her breasts to expose a well-toned abdomen, along with a pair of battered sandals. She'd never have gotten away with such an outfit with Dumas if she didn't look so damn good in it.

Now she raised an eyebrow curiously as she regarded him. "And so? Is she too old, fat, or ugly for you to do it yourself?" There was a mix of sarcasm and anger underlying her tone, but she kept her expression carefully neutral beyond the eyebrow raising.

Dumas gritted his teeth, then spoke slowly and carefully. "You are being paid to do a job, Grenier, and it's time for you to earn your pay! I am in a bad mood, it is not the time to push me!" Having come to that conclusion belatedly herself, Angelique warily got to her feet, and followed Dumas as he spun and went back into the main office. He gestured angrily at the door to the processing room, then dropped into his chair. Looking around at the other guards, he barked, "Don't you have anything else to do?" And the office suddenly became vacant save for Angelique and him. She walked to the door, never taking her eyes off Dumas, opened it and slipped inside.

The room had no windows, and the only furnishings were a table in the center of the room and two battered stools. There were also some lights on tall stands for use in interrogations, and two or three empty wooden crates. Angelique grimaced at the sight of those. They weren't strongly built, but one slat broken off properly could make a dangerous weapon. But the idiot men put the crates in here for who knew what reason! Of course, they never left a prisoner in here unaccompanied normally. Tonight, however....

Angelique studied the prisoner, and recognized her almost immediately. She wasn't restrained at all, and was just leaning on the table, a curious look on her face as she studied Angelique. "Kim Possible?" she blurted out, then grimaced. "_Pardon, _of course you are!"

Kim smiled briefly and shrugged. "Yep, that's me! Not at my best, but that's not important right now, who're you?" She straightened up and stood swinging her arms idly as she waited for her answer. As a matter of habit, she'd already checked out the contents of the room, which hadn't taken long.

Momentarily nonplussed, Angelique quickly got her 'professional' mindset in place. "My name is Angelique Grenier, I'm in charge of searching and processing female prisoners, Miss Possible. Did anyone empty your pockets? Were you frisked at all?"

Kim shrugged again, showing her empty hands. "They just took my backpack, I was wondering why they didn't do more before, actually! Not that I have any weapons, all my mission gear including my belt is in the pack." She indicated her pockets. "Just my wallet and one lipstick in these. A real lipstick, not one of my special ones!"

Angelique nodded, then gestured towards the table. "Put them there, if you please." She then took her eyes off Kim, picking one of the empty crates up and then turning back towards the girl. Keeping one eye on Kim, she studied the carte a moment, turning it around in her hands, looking through the slats. Then she frowned, and put it down, then took up another. "I'm afraid we will have to do a strip search, Miss Possible." Kim made a face, but Angelique wasn't watching. She was nodding with satisfaction as she discovered that the bottom of the second crate had a solid bottom, with no gaps between the slats. She stepped over to a spot to the left of the door and set it back down, lying on it's side, so the bottom was against the wall.

"But..." She continued as she took hold of one of the lights and began to shift it's position, while studying a spot high on the wall, also to the left of the door. "I think we can skip the 'rubber glove' process. I hardly think your young friend, Wade Load? I hardly think he'd be designing you any gadgets to hide in those places, am I right?"

Kim, who had already emptied her pockets on the table, turned bright red at the thought. "H--hardly is right!" she stammered. She was shuffling her feet uneasily, dreading what was about to come. But she wasn't going to stall, she didn't want this woman losing patience with her, and maybe asking for help. Kim had noticed looks from some of the jail staff that suggested they would be glad to assist if Kim was difficult. The fact she could _probably_ wipe the floor with the lot of them only mattered if she wanted to get in deeper trouble with the local authorities. For the moment, she didn't. She was however very curious about the woman's behavior.

After moving the light, Angelique picked up one stool and moved it to a new position, then walked over to Kim and took her by the shoulders, and moved her to a position just to the left of the table, if one's back was to the door. "Stand right there, please, and get undressed. Put your clothes on the table as you remove them." She then moved the other stool close enough for Kim to lean on, then took a seat on the one she'd first moved.

Kim scowled faintly, then sighed and began unlacing her boots.

In the office, Dumas sat brooding for several minutes after Angelique had entered the room. Then he rose, and checked to make sure none of his staff were around, listening to the sounds they were making in the guard's room and the cell block to try and judge how busy they were. Finally satisfied, he moved quietly to the door to the processing room, and carefully removed a tile next to the door jamb. Squatting down, he looked through a small peephole it had covered, giving him a clear view of the room. And frowned. Angelique's position on the stool was blocking his view of Kim Possible.

Frustrated, he replaced the tile. He then repeated his check on his minions, before going to his next option. He got down on hands and knees, and removed a piece of molding on the opposite side of the doorway. He had to put his ear on the floor to see through the peephole this revealed, but it always gave him a good view....except tonight, something was obstructing his view. Barely suppressing a snarl, he replaced the molding and got to his feet, brushing dirt out of his hair.

He stood for a moment, hands on hips, looking at the table that sat behind his desk. It held stacks of papers and forms, as well as a few items he'd confiscated from his own people. As he did, he remembered Kim's backpack, which still sat where the police had left it. But he shook his head, that could wait. He went to the table, and moved some of the papers to clear a space, then pulled over a stiff-backed chair to use to step up onto the table.

The peephole this time wasn't really concealed, it was in plain sight directly above a hung picture, and looked like someone had originally tried to hang the picture higher, then decided to bring it lower, and never plastered over the original hole. Dumas didn't like it, mostly because of the difficulty accessing it. Nevertheless, it did give him a good view of the other room...but not tonight, something was blocking it. The only thing tall enough would be one of the interrogation lights. _"Damn those fools, not putting them back where they're supposed to be!"_

This time he couldn't suppress a curse, which he followed by slamming both hands against the wall. Which was followed by an ominous _'crack'_ from the table beneath his feet.

"Please turn around." Angelique directed Kim. She had just done so when a dull thump came from behind Angelique, followed shortly afterwards by a shout that turned to a scream and a muffled crash from beyond the door. Kim spun around, trying to cover as much of herself as possible with two hands, as Angelique jumped up and spun to face the door herself. Kim stepped closer to her, keeping the older woman between herself and the door. "What happened?"

A slow smile spread across Angelique's face. "Just possibly, a little justice! You can get dressed again, we're done here. Leave off your boots and belt, though, just leave them on the table. Socks or barefoot, your choice." Kim chose barefoot.

When they emerged, all the guards were gathered around Dumas, who lay prone besides his desk, half of which was now bare, everything formerly on it now littering the floor around it's owner. "Hold still, Sir!" One guard was saying, "While I pull this out!" There was a grunt of pain, and the guard tossed a bloody pen onto the desk. "I've called for an ambulance, Sir! It should be here soon!" Another guard reassured his stricken boss.

"Listen!" Dumas gasped, "I need to tell you the special instructions for the prisoners!" He came into Kim's sight as he said this, and he saw her in turn, and his pain-filled expression gained an angry aspect. "G---get that little bitch in a---a cell, Grenier!" He managed to say. He remained silent as Kim was led into the cell block.

There were six cells in the block, and two of them were occupied as Kim was led to hers. Each by a single man, wearing what might have once been good clothing, now ragged and dirty. Both men had clearly been beaten, but were alert enough to study Kim with puzzled interest as she passed. Angelique almost led her to the last pair of cells, but suddenly halted, and led her back to one of the middle pair, indicating she should enter the one opposite one of the occupied ones.

The furnishings were no surprise, the smell of disinfectant a small one. The bunk sported a frayed blanket concealing whatever condition the mattress was in, and a small uncased pillow. There was a water tap protruding from the wall, but the sink that had been below it was missing, and had been replaced by a bucket. There were two of those, both cheap plastic and not much threat as weapons. Kim didn't want to think about what use she might have to make of the second one.

"I don't know what's going on, Miss Possible." Angelique said as she slid the cell door shut, "But the American Consul will probably be by to secure your release in the morning. Until then, try and make the best of it, I'll make sure none of your possessions are stolen."

Kim turned from her grim inspection of her accommodations to acknowledge her with a nod and the faintest of smiles. "Please and Thank You." She went over to the bunk and prodded it experimentally, Making a face as she did. Angelique hesitated a moment, then turned to leave the cell block. First, though, she looked at the other two prisoners, face conflicted, before shaking her head and walking away.

Kim sat down cautiously on the bed, scooted back and leaned back against the wall. _"So, I finally get to see how the other half live? __So__ not funny! I don't think I've ever put someone in a cell this bad, but then again, I've never gone to see how they've been treated by the system. I mean, what do they do with someone like Shego? I never asked what precautions they take to keep her powers neutralized. Not that she spends much time incarcerated, anyway! Just until GJ has to respond to requests by other agencies to interview her 'in relation to'. Then they have to transfer her to the other peoples' custody, in order to keep their own anonymity, and she promptly escapes!"_

She looked up at the ceiling, where the paint was mostly reduced to a few patches here and there. _"What could I have done differently? Resisted arrest? Hardly! Just have to hope Dad never hears about this, he has those memories of...well, just hope he doesn't hear, that's all!" _She heaved a heavy sigh, _"Guess I'll wait until tomorrow, and see if Angelique's right about the Consul. But what if she's wrong? So the Drama! I'll worry about that when I have to."_

She pressed her head back against the wall and just let her mind go blank. And almost immediately heard voices. She tilted her head slightly one way, then the other, also turning it from side to side. After a moment, she shifted sideways on the bunk, and suddenly heard the faint voices clearly.

"...I'm saying that he won't be here if we do it, so he can't take the blame, we will! And they don't take 'following orders' as an excuse!" Came one urgent voice.

The voice that responded was more controlled. "Who do you think will be asking for your reasons, eh? The rebels? Not likely, you're dead no matter why you did it! Or rather, _we_ did it! Look, I'm not happy about murder, but some of the things we've done in here before count as the same thing! Look, if the rebels win, we've got no chance! But if they lose, we have to live with President LeMonde! So, we carry out his orders, right? If the rebels get anywhere close to liberating those two men, we kill them, got it?" Kim heard what might have been a muttered reply, but she really wasn't paying attention now. _"Well, that certainly changes things!" _She thought, and a determined gleam came into her eyes. _"Now, how to go about this?"_

* * *

Well, there's the first chapter! This story is a prequel to my revised 'Four Seasons' storyline, though it should stand up well enough on it's own. In the next chapter, Kim takes action, and we find out more of what Drakken and Shego are up to.

For now, Please Read and Review


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Kim Possible, any of the other characters from that show, or those from any other media I may reference in my stories.

Being too lazy to name them, I will continue to identify the characters of the Minister of Defense as MoD, and the Deputy Minister of State as DMoS.

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The situation in the President's offices hadn't improved much. The fact that Kim Possible had been arrested had taken on possibly more importance then it should have due to the timing of it's announcement. The problems it presented were real, but might normally have been resolved with a quick decision to release her, or at least summon the American Consul to take charge of her. But right now, the President saw no decision as simple, and each one as a potential minefield he had to step warily around.

He hoped to blow some steam off by chewing out his cousin, Edouard, for causing the problem, but so far that worthy had failed to put in an appearance. And he wasn't answering his cellphone, which was odd. He undoubtedly knew he was in trouble, and that delaying the confrontation with his volatile cousin would only make things worse. But the President found a distraction from his mounting anger in some advice the DMoS decided to offer.

He offered it while gazing at the ceiling overhead and idly scratching under his chin. "This sounds like a cliché, but we might turn this to our advantage if we can arrange for something to happen to Miss Possible, and find a way to blame it on the rebels."

"A cliché? That's an understatement!" the MoD responded sarcastically. "Besides, how will we prove it wasn't just that Shego woman, and wasn't just part of Miss Possible's normal pursuits?" The President nodded in agreement, which angered the DMoS, but he kept it hidden well. And he wasn't done with the suggestion, just yet.

"Well, if it took place during an attempt to break Baronne and Lucas out of the jail, and she was a collateral casualty....of course, the attempt would end in failure, with both of the men in question killed, along with many of their would-be rescuers..."

LeMonde winced and turned away. "I don't want to kill my brother-in-law unless absolutely necessary!" Then a calculating look came over his face. "But then again, if the rebels were responsible..." He shook his head, "No, my sister would blame me for his death anyway, for putting him in there in the first place!"

The DMoS looked at the ceiling again, arms wide in a gesture of despair, then brought his gaze down to rest on the President, as he replied, "You cannot be intimidated by your own sister, Robert! You are President! Her husband should have shown unquestioning loyalty to you! His actions, in defiance of your edicts, were justly punished by imprisonment!" His angry tone had moderated as he saw a bit of fire kindling in LeMonde's eyes, fire aimed at him.

"Do not EVER suggest that I am intimidated! But I have no desire to give my sister incentive to act towards me in a disrespectful manner, which I would then have to punish, do you understand?" The low, dangerous tone had the DMoS nodding a quick assent. "Never!" The President continued, "As long as she remains quietly in her cell tonight, I want Miss Possible taken to the United States Consulate in the morning! You will go, as well, and express our desire that she leave this country as soon as possible! I don't want her involved with our affairs, and that is my final word!" Both men nodded. Then one of the telephones on his desk rang. LeMonde answered it himself, having banished his staff from the room during this discussion.

"Yes? Who is...Dumas? What happened?....how did he...._merde!_ Stupid _cochon!_ What about the prisoner, Miss Possible? Good, see that she stays unmolested, as long as she behaves herself! I am holding you personally responsible, understand? _Bon!_" He slammed the phone down, and commenced an angry pacing, from the desk to one set of balcony doors and back. His companions gave him a minute to cool off a bit, but eventually the MoD broke the silence. "What happened to Jailer Dumas?"

LeMonde flapped one hand in a dismissive gesture, "Not important! Fool is in the hospital, can't perform his duties for at least a week! Now I need to appoint someone to cover his responsibilities, someone I can trust to obey orders, no matter how unpleasant they might be!" He ceased his pacing, and heaved a deep sigh, "I think we need to contact the Americans. Drakken and Shego are American nationals, after all! If we ask for the means to deal with them, rather then actual assistance, they may agree, to avoid another overseas 'adventure', even a small scale one like this would be!"

Each of his advisors nodded, but not with great enthusiasm. "I suppose we may as well ask." The MoD spoke with an air of resignation, "It's better then any other alternative, right now."

"Don't make it sound as if it's a defeat!" LeMonde snapped, "If we can deal with those two interlopers, the rest of the so-called 'rebels' will be easily dealt with!"

As the three talked they were unaware their conversation was being monitored. Underneath LeMonde's desk sat a small squat machine equipped with miniature caterpillar treads. It was barely three inches tall, by six by eight inches, and was stuffed with electronics capable of eavesdropping, tapping phone lines, and general scanning. Every word spoken by the three men was picked up clearly and relayed to the device's owner. Who was far closer to the site of this meeting then any of the participants would have been comfortable with, had they known.

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It took Kim Possible less then two minutes to find the means to pick the lock of her cell door. Though the bedframe supported the mattress with a mesh of metal strips riveted to the frame, someone had done repair work on it using some stiff wire. Three different gauges, and Kim studied each one to determine which best suited her purpose. Once selected, she had to untwist it using her fingers, which was a painful chore, the ends being sharp and originally tightened using pliers, apparently.

Next she had to shape the ends into a form suitable for lockpicking. Since the bed wasn't anchored to the floor, Kim used the feet to flatten out the twists, by placing the ends under them, and putting all her weight on the corner in question.

Or at least she tried, her first choice of wire was too hard to flatten by simple pressure, or at least as much as she could apply without making noise..

So she untwisted her second choice, and found the metal softer, soft enough to use a rough edge on one of the bed's feet to notch it deeply enough to break it in the middle, leaving two ends without the twists. As she shaped those to her needs, she hoped it was still rigid enough to work as picks.

When she began to work on the lock itself, she noticed the prisoner in the cell opposite her was awake, and watching her. "So, why are you a prisoner?" She asked in a loud whisper.

There was no response for nearly a minute. Then the man shifted closer to the bars, and looked cautiously towards the closed door to the office. Rather then being a solid security door, it was a normal wooden one, with a gap between the bottom and the floor. There was also no vision port in the door, so guards would have to open the door to see if anything was happening within the cell block.

"My name is Henri Baronne, and our neighbor is Henry Lucas. We were both solicitors, or lawyers, if you prefer, and candidates for judge. And we both angered our President by refusing the post of Chief Magistrate. He needed someone popular with the people, to try and convince them his legal system in fairly run, at least temporarily. Throwing us in here is an overreaction, though, perhaps indicative of the stress he's feeling because of this 'revolution'."

"What do you think of this revolution, and the people backing it?" Kim asked.

Baronne shrugged. "If you mean this Doctor Drakken and his associate, I'll admit to some mistrust as to their motives. But then again, I can't really think of any reason for them to involve themselves at all. I've had no contact with the revolutionaries, but my brother-in-law says they want to put me in charge, if they win, whether they've mentioned that to me, or not!"

Kim broke off biting her lip as she worked to ask, "Your brother-in-law is connected to the rebels?"

Baronne grinned. "Not exactly, my brother-in-law is the President." Kim nearly fumbled her lockpicks. "What? And he locked you up?" She did manage to keep her voice down, however.

Baronne chuckled quietly. "Well, if I wasn't his brother-in-law, _and_ very popular, he'd have simply had us both shot. But he decided to put us in here instead."

Kim chewed her lip for a moment as she continued to work the lock. Then made a decision. "Not sure how I was able to hear it, but the guards have orders to kill you if there's any chance of the rebels rescuing you. But that's not going to happen, I'm getting you both out of here with me!"

Baronne's eyes had widened at the mention of the guards' orders, then became concerned at Kim's declaration. "I had wondered why you were escaping, young lady. I thought you would simply wait until the American Consul came for you. But if you're doing this just for us, you should reconsider. The Government is very harsh in it's punishments, you would not be treated well if they catch you. _And,_ like it or not, they are the legitimate government at this time."

Kim frowned, but didn't stop working. That was certainly true, but there was simply no way she was leaving these men to be executed, if what Henri Baronne had told her was the truth. And she felt certain that it was. Then the decision was made easier, as she succeeded with the lock. She began to slowly slide it open, inch by inch, hoping not to make any noise. Only the slightest of squeaks occurred, and she could clearly hear the mutter of conversation from the office over them, so she was confident that the reverse wasn't true.

When she had enough room to squeeze through, she stood up and did so, then studied her situation. There was a door at either end of the cell block, the one into the office, and another, far more solid looking one, at the opposite end. She could see that it was alarmed from where she stood. She went to the office door and listened. Oddly, she couldn't make out the conversation. _"Guess what I heard earlier didn't come under the door. Must have been an air vent, or something."_

She went silently to the other door, and examined the alarm system. It was an old system, and she had no doubts she could circumvent it. She considered her options for a minute, then went ahead with disabling the alarm. That accomplished, she went to work on the lock, and soon had the door unlocked.

Pushing it open very cautiously, she saw that it was very dark beyond it. She stuck her head through the opening, but could make out very little, except that the door led out into an empty lot. Pushing the door open a bit more, to let the light from the cell block spill out on the ground, she studied the ground, and grimaced. The ground was littered with broken glass, primarily from broken bottles, from what she could tell. She studied her bare feet._ "No shoes for any of us, and I don't feel like doing a 'John McClane'! Not with the three of us, anyway. Have to go out the front. And might as well try and collect my stuff on the way."_

She returned to Baronne's cell. "I'm going to unlock your door, but stay inside until we see if I can get us out of here. Can't use the back door, broken glass and other debris all over." She proceeded to do as she had said, unlocking first his, then Henry Lucas' door, after securing his agreement to remain inside.

She then went to the door into the office again, and listened. She could hear two voices at least engaged in conversation. But they were talking in such low tones that she couldn't make out the words, even if she got down on the floor and put her ear next to the gap.

She visualized the layout of the office as she'd seen it. The main door was directly opposite the cell block door, with no intervening obstructions. To her right, there was a single door in the wall, but she didn't know what it led to. There would also be a door to her immediate left as she passed through this one. She had no idea what was beyond that door, either. Then came a pair of desks, with the door to the processing room between them in the left hand wall. The closer desk had been unoccupied when she came in. The farther one was Dumas'.

"_Great way to start, with no idea what, or who, is beyond those two doors. At least I'm fairly sure none of the guards is in the processing room. Now, if I do this, going to have to take down these guys hard, but they're the law here, I'm committing a crime, technically! Well, I 'technically' have trespassed illegally before, but none of the owners of those properties were likely to press any charges." _She took a deep breath. "So the Drama!" She whispered, then reached for the door knob.

And froze when a new voice sounded in the next room, loudly. Whoever it was seemed to be very excited. She heard the other voices raised in excited, rapid speech as well. Then they moved farther away, possibly to the main door. Kim slowly grasped the knob and turned it slowly, until the door shifted. Then she eased it open with the utmost care, then froze as she spotted someone pop out of the door on the left and rush towards the main entrance. Though she had a very narrow view, it looked like a guard fastening his trousers as he ran past.

He apparently didn't notice the door to the cell block being ajar, his attention being elsewhere. Kim waited a moment, then eased the door far enough open to stick her head out. She soon saw that the guards had apparently gone outside save one, who stood in the main entrance doorway, facing away from her. She could clearly hear an animated conversation going on beyond him, though.

Scanning the room, Kim failed to spot her belongings anywhere. She slipped out through the door, then eased it closed, and crouched behind the desk. She moved over to where she could see through the door the guard had emerged from. She saw a sparsely furnished room, fairly well kept. A Television sat on a sagging table, and a few magazines, at least one obviously featuring naked females. In the far wall of the room was a narrow door, through which she could see a toilet. _"Well, that's where the last guy came from. No one else in there, thankfully!"_

Kim moved back to the front corner of the desk, and checked on the guards again. They hadn't moved, and were still talking excitedly. She looked at the door across the room, gauging the risk of making a dash to it, and through it. Big problem was, what if there was someone else in there, then all hell would break loose._ "Well, better than going barefoot through all that broken glass. Here goes..."_

Kim moved quickly across the room while staying low. She took the door knob, twisted it, and slipped straight inside with the swinging door. She knew she wasn't alone even as she swung it back shut. Ending up with her back to the door, she saw Angelique Grenier looking back at her. She was back as she was when Dumas had come in earlier, feet up and magazine in hand. She barely quirked an eyebrow as she regarded Kim. Then she pointed down by her side. Kim saw her backpack, boots, and other possessions piled next to the chair.

Warily, she stepped away from the door and approached Angelique. "Going to try and stop me?" The woman smirked and shook her head. "Jailer Dumas was very specific about my duties. I am to search female prisoners, nothing more! And I have no intention of going against Jailer Dumas' wishes. He might get cross with me, after all."

Kim continued to regard her suspiciously as she took hold of her pack and boots, and pulled them back towards the door. She rummaged quickly through her pack, pulling out her mission belt, and after a moment's thought, a fresh pair of socks, which she pulled on. While doing so, she noticed another door in the back of the room. Angelique merely watched her with a faintly amused expression on her face, as Kim finished getting herself together. "not going to warn the other guards? Oh, wait a sec! Do you know where I can find some shoes for the other two prisoners?"

Angelique's expression switched to shock. "You---you're taking them with you? But---why?"

Kim nodded, determination on her face. "The guards have orders to kill them if there's any chance they'll be released, or rescued. Not going to let that happen!"

The surprise gradually faded from Angelique's face as she realized Kim was serious. Then she got out of her chair, and went quickly to a small basket perched on top of a cardboard box. Removing the basket, she flipped the box over, and picked up two pairs of sandals that had been covered by the box. She held them out to Kim. "This is the best I can do! Was going to give these to my uncles, but I have no idea where to find them, these days! I think they've joined the revolt."

Kim hesitated, then took the sandals. Angelique went back to her chair and picked up her magazine, as well as taking a small string bag from behind the chair. "How did you get past them, anyway? I heard something going on out there a moment ago..." She shrugged, a curious look on her face.

"Not sure." Kim replied, "But something has them outside having a little talk, but no idea what about." She kept her eye on Angelique as she returned to the door. Then a thought struck her. "Wait a moment, won't they know you let me have my stuff if they see me with it?"

Angelique gestured towards the other door, "I'm leaving now, they won't know how long I've been gone, so don't worry about me, worry about you and the others."

Kim studied the woman briefly, but if she was worried, she hid it very well. So she went to the door, cracked it, and peeked out. The front door was still open, but no one was standing in it anymore. She cautiously opened the door slowly to increase her field of vision, scanning for anyone in the office. She still heard voices outside. Eventually she had to stick her head out to be sure, but now all the guards seemed to be out front. _"Must be a heck of a distraction! Oh, wish Ron was here...or maybe not, strip-searches would not be a favorite activity for him!"_

She quickly crossed to the cell block door, making sure not to become too focused on the front door, lest someone pop out of the guards' room. She also made sure none of the guards had actually gone into the cell block, and just not raised the alarm yet. Her precaution was unnecessary. She went quickly to the two mens' cells and gave them each a pair of sandals. "How mobile are you, Sirs?"

Henri Baronne gave her an unhappy look. "Well, walking is fine, but any running will have to be limited to short dashes, I think, as far as I'm concerned! What about you, Henry?"

Henry Lucas nodded. "I think the same applies to me." He prodded his lower ribs gingerly. "Breathing is a little painful, but I think it's only bruising making it so."

Kim nodded, a look of grim determination on her face. "Then we'll have to manage! If you need to lean on me, let me know."

"We'll lean on each other, Miss Possible, you need to be free to act, if we have any chance at all." Henri replied, and Henry nodded agreement.

"Okay, let's get out of here, we can't stay lucky forever!" Kim winced after saying that, wondering if she'd just jinxed them. She led them to the back door, then slipped outside to check things out. She took a better look at the empty lot. One end was wide open to the street, the other was blocked by a wide, water-filled ditch. Directly opposite was another building, with a fence lining the ditch at it's back, creating an alley, and forming a concealed escape route, if they reached it.

Kim went back to the door, and signaled the two men to come out and follow her. Even though shod, Kim stepped as carefully she could as she crossed through the broken glass. She matched her pace to that of the two men as much as possible, glancing back frequently to check their progress as they gingerly picked their way through the glass.

They were two-thirds of the way across when their luck ran out. Kim had been listening for a vehicle approaching along the street, but what came instead was a loud female voice, shouting from one of the upper floors of a four-story building across the street.

"Charles Caron! What kind of guard are you, you _pathetique Batard?" _The voice was very loud, and echoed slightly. Kim's winced as her head snapped around. "That's done it! Quick, Into that alley!" She waved the two men past her, keeping herself between them and the street as they moved as fast as they were able.

In front of the jail, one of the guards looked up at the sound of his wife's voice, frowning. "What are you on about, woman!?" He bellowed back. He could barely make out his wife sticking her head out the window of their apartment on the third floor above him. The other two guards, and their policeman friend who had called them out front, grinned at the exchange. But not for long.

"Oh, nothing! Just as you stand there gossiping like a fishwife, your prisoners are escaping out the back of the building!" His wife yelled back.

"WHAT!" The guard turned and dashed back inside, followed by all of his comrades. "Wait you Buffoon!!!" His wife yelled down, "Circle around..._merde!"_

She flung up her hands in exasperation and went back inside. As she did, a dark colored Range-Rover rolled up to the jail's entrance, and five heavily armed men got out. They took note of a number of curious faces peering around from the windows of the surrounding buildings, though they had no idea what had roused them. Still, to them, it was very inconvenient. Then they heard yells from within the jail, and that particular problem ceased to be of importance.

The quintet rushed inside. Spotting one of the guards rushing from the cell block to the guardroom, the leader shouted to get his attention. "You! What the hell is going on?" The guard stopped, torn between challenging the strangers and a strong sense of self-preservation. The men were not islanders, but mercenaries, and they looked as if they would accept no defiance lightly. But, he couldn't let them go completely unchallenged. Squaring his shoulders and facing them boldly, he demanded, "Who are you, and why are you here?"

The leader of the group walked right up and shoved his face in the guard's. "All you need to know is that I'm here on the authority of the Deputy Minister of State, is that good enough for you?" The flash of fear in the guard's eyes was all the answer the man needed, no words were necessary. "Now, what happened here? Or would my best guess be right, that you lost your prisoners!"

"Where the hell are those torches!" The head guard bellowed as he stormed through the cell block into the office, stopping dead when he saw the mercs. "Now what? I have prisoners to recapture, no time for dis nonsense!" The first guard took the opportunity to duck into the guardroom when the mercenary leader's attention shifted away from him.

The head merc now stepped closer to the head guard. "Did you lose all three? Even the girl? Did they have help from others?" His subject scowled, then nodded. "Yes, all of them! But they can't be movin' fast, the men are all beat up, should be easy to catch! And no, it seems the girl was responsible for it all."

"Does anyone else know? Have you notified anyone?" Was the merc's next question. His men tensed slightly as he asked it.

"Well, if you consider Charlie Caron's wife bellowing it out her window for everyone to hear letting the secret out, then yes, anyone wit ears in the neighborhood knows! And no, I haven't notified anyone officially yet, going to do that now!" Not realizing he had just saved his own life, the man turned his back on the fuming merc and grabbed the nearest phone, quickly dialing a number.

The head merc shook his head angrily, and trotted through the cell block and out the back door. Charles Caron was on the far side of the lot, peering down the alley that Kim and her fellow escapees had fled through. Followed by his team, the merc ran across to Caron, while pulling a flashlight out of his web gear. "Down here?" He asked Caron brusquely. The guard just nodded, backing nervously away. "Right!" He turned to his men. "Get after them, while I call for new orders!"

He stepped back as they dashed past him in grim silence, then walked away from Caron while digging out a cellphone from one pocket of his fatigues.

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In another part of the city, four people were huddled around a map laid out on a card table in one of the back rooms of a large, rambling house. They were listening to a radio monitoring the local police frequencies as they talked in low tones while studying the map. The sudden vibration of a cellphone caused one to break off an observation and fish the phone out of her pants pocket. "Go!" She spoke into the phone.

The voice that responded was highly excited. "Miss Black, you were right to tap that snake's phone! He just sent a team of his personal lapdogs to the jail, with orders to kill Baronne and Lucas!"

"Crap!" The woman snapped, "Where is the team starting from?"

"The _Hotel Coloniale, _I'm afraid!" was the regretful reply.

'Miss Black' grimaced and gazed implorongly upwards, then responded, "Then we haven't a chance of beating them there, or getting there soon enough to stop them doing their job!" she turned to the three men listening raptly to her end of the conversation. "Looks like we may need a new candidate for your new President!" Anger and dismay appeared on all their faces, as the woman directed another question at her caller. "How are they supposed to do it?"

"They are supposed to kill the guards, then take the prisoners to another location, kill them, and make sure the bodies aren't found. Make it look like we broke them out." was the reply.

"And Kim Possible? Were they going to disguise themselves as rebels, leave her as a witness?" the woman made an effort to keep her tone neutral as she asked. But she winced at the response. "No, they were to kill her, along with the guards. I think to anger the Americans, make it easier for LeMonde to get their support."

The woman took a moment to respond. "Yeah, that makes sense." She said quietly. "Okay, keep listening, if they confirm the kill to him, call me back." She hung up without waiting for a reply. Her free hand clenched and unclenched spasmodically for a moment, then she got herself under control and turned back to her companions. "Okay, this is a setback, as far as our plans for after we unseat LeMonde, but it's not going to stop us giving him the boot! We go through...." An announcement on the radio interrupted her.

"_Attention! Attention! All men on duty! An escape has occurred from the jail! Three fugitives are at large! Henri Baronne, Henry Lucas, and an American girl, who may be a foreign agent! She is believed to be armed! All precautions are to be taken, military units are en route to assist! A cordon is to be established around the market quarter and the area extending from there to the Western Canal! Subjects are to be taken alive if possible, but no risks are to be taken, if they offer resistance, shoot on sight..." _The message was then repeated in French.

The four people in the room looked at each other, the three men shrugging in confusion. The woman stood there silently for a moment, then a smile slowly appeared on her face. "Princess, I have a feeling you're behind this! Don't know why, but..." she whispered, before another outburst from the radio cut her off again.

"_Be advised all three subjects last seen moving west from jail, along feeder ditch for West Canal!" _Again the message was repeated in French.

Shego scowled. "West? Well, better then South, I suppose. Right! Let's get going, we need to try and find those three before the police or Military do. We also need to find out which military units are being sent to help. This may work to our advantage, if they pull some guards from our targets! On the other hand, extra soldiers in the city might be bad. We'll just have to see!" She looked at one man. "Stay here, monitor communications." Then the other two. "Get your teams and head for the Market Quarter. No combat, try and stay undetected, I taught you well enough how to do that! I'm heading for the Canal, and I'll start my search after I pick up my own team. Let's go, we can't waste time!"

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Kim Possible crouched at the corner of a low stone wall enclosing the backyard of an apparently abandoned house, which faced onto the only paved road they'd crossed so far, an East-West street barely wide enough for two small cars to pass each other. She was currently at a T-junction formed by two alleys, looking South, back the way they had come.

Her breathing was back to normal, but she could clearly hear the difficulty the two men were having recovering from their exertions. They'd held up far longer then even they had probably imagined, for they were now roughly six blocks west from the jail, and one south of the feeder ditch. Blocks being a very rough term. They had crossed only the one legitimate paved street in their flight, but several dirt alleys or roads, depending on one's definition.

Now as Kim looked back the way they'd come, she saw a flashlight briefly sweep a bit of ground then vanish, but it seemed to be all the way back at the ditch. Looking in the opposite direction, she saw what had to be a main road about fifty yards north up the alley. The next building on her side in that direction was two stories tall, and windowless, with a flat roof. She briefly wondered if she could get the two men on the roof. Their pursuers wouldn't expect two men in their condition to manage such a thing. But she didn't think she could, not in a reasonable amount of time. She'd already spotted two police vehicles, an open jeep and a battered Honda, patrolling the area. Though no sirens were to be heard, she knew an alarm was out.

She looked behind her, eastwards along the wall and the alleyway extending beyond. It was unlit, and besides that led right back towards the Jail. Directly opposite her, a seven foot corrugated tin fence terminated this alley, and blocked her view of whatever lay to the west of the junction, but no roofs were visible above it, from her angle. So, she needed to do a very quick recon of the far side to see what opportunities lay there, or if her only option was to move towards the better lit main road to her left. First she reached into a side pocket of her backpack, and produced a dark, ninja style hood to cover her face, and contain her ponytail. After she donning it, she turned to the two men.

"I'm going to check things out, try and choose our route from here, unless either of you are familiar with the area?" They both responded with regretful shakes of their heads. "No Big, I'll be back as quick as I can, just stay here in the shadows. Unless you hear a commotion. If I draw attention, I'll draw them away from you, and then you'll be on your own, sorry."

"You've given us more of a chance then we had, Miss Possible, don't apologize for that." Henri Baronne replied, "And don't feel you have to take full responsibility for us, either. We are both grown men, if we have to, we can take care of ourselves."

Henry Lucas then spoke up. "Be careful, Miss Possible. This isn't your fight, but if you were to be killed, and the blame placed on the rebels, it might influence your Government to support LeMonde. And I have to ask, if you have your equipment back, do you not have your device for communicating with your friends?"

Kim hesitated before answering. "Yes Sir, I do. But...if I call Wade, I don't know where it will go from there. I'm here on my own, right now. If I call Wade, no matter what I say, he may call others to help, and things might get complicated. On the other hand, my not calling him will worry him, too." She sighed. "Things could go wrong either way, I suppose..." She pulled out her Kimmunicator and activated it. And looked in dismay at the text message that came up.

"**Kim...caught whatever Ron has. Mom has me on strict bed rest. Guess you were right last month, when you suggested I find someone else to fill in for me in emergencies. If you need help, use the access key I gave you to contact GJ. Sorry to let you down Kim.**

Kim slumped back against the wall. "You never let me down, Wade, I just ask too much of you." She whispered. Then a thought occurred to her. She tapped commands into the Kimmunicator. After a moment she groaned and smacked her forehead. Wade had downloaded maps of Isle Drakkon to her Kimmunicator's database, including separate satellite maps of the capital city. _"How did I forget something like that? And the speed with which things have gone crazy tonight is no excuse!" _She quickly brought up them up, and zeroed in on her own GPS coordinates, studying her surroundings.

She made a face when she saw that the way they needed to go required crossing a main road no matter which direction they chose. There was nothing bigger then a shack beyond the fence west of her, but apparently plenty of junk. But beyond that was a main North-South road, and beyond that the West Canal itself, paralleling the road,or vice versa. She wondered why she hadn't spotted a bridge for the road to cross the feeder ditch earlier, because it showed clearly on the map photo. _"Well, it was dark, and we were in a hurry, but still...."_ The sound of heavy motors coming from the north broke into her musings, and Kim quickly moved across to the building corner that gave her cover from the north, and cautiously peered around it.

Moments later, three vehicles rolled past the far end. Two were two-and-a-half ton Army trucks, US surplus. But the lead vehicle was a four-wheeled armored personnel carrier with a turreted machine gun on top. Kim vaguely recognized it as Brazilian made, but recalled little else about it. All three were headed East, and she now realized they were on the same road by which she'd been brought to the jail from the airport. _"Too bad I didn't pay more attention, but I was too busy kicking myself mentally!"_

But for the moment, all she knew was that if all three vehicles were carrying troops, the odds were getting worse by the moment. _"And the longer I sit here procrastinating, the worse they'll get! Time to get moving, Possible!" _She returned to the two men. "We have to move, are you two ready?" Without hesitation, they nodded. "Okay, either way we go, we have to cross a major road. The only question is, which one? South, or West? Any opinions on which way we can go and find a safe hiding place?"

They considered briefly. "Well, my home is South of here. So they may expect us to go that way." Henry Lucas observed, "While Henri lives on the Eastern edge of the city."

Kim made a face. "Then we have to cross both the road, and the canal, unless we can find a bridge safe to sneak across." She studied her maps again, then sighed. "Okay, let's get over the fence, then I'll scout ahead." She almost gave them a reassuring smile, then realized they couldn't see it under the mask. "Let's go, time to move."

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The reception of the escape news in the President's office nearly resulted in the meltdown of all the circuits in the little robot hiding under the desk, so blistering was the language used by President LeMonde. It also caused cousin Edouard, just arrived outside the office door, to suddenly feel the call of nature, and veer away from entering.

The DMoS was also highly perturbed, and was even less happy to have his hit team call him up while the president was in high dudgeon. He couldn't get away without the President noticing, and doubted he'd be permitted a long conversation without interruption. Worse, if LeMonde became suspicious...well, he could admit to ordering the murders. It was far better to be censured for exceeding his authority then to have suspicion of his activities take root in LeMonde's fertile, and increasingly paranoid, mind. So he pulled out his cellphone and answered it, as the President fixed him with an angry scowl. "Yes? Yes, I have heard the news, and so has the President. And neither of us is pleased with the guards' performance. Even excusing the distraction caused by the loss of their leader. The escapees will be dealt with, have no fear."

On the other end of the connection, the mercenary team leader had caught on immediately to the reason for the double-talk. "Sorry to have intruded at an obviously awkward moment, sir. All I need to know is, do my orders still stand?"

"Yes, it will be done! Now, I have others I must answer to, rest assured, the matter is in hand." The DMoS hung up and looked at the President. "We have far too many worriers in high places, Robert! When this matter is resolved, we need to consider putting people with more trust in you in those spots."

LeMonde still had the slightest suspicion in his eyes as he started to ask, "Who---no, never mind that now! As you say, we'll deal with that problem when we've resolved our current ones!" He pressed a key on his desk intercom. "Captain Fan, please come in here!"

Within a minute the office door opened to admit the President's Military Liaison Officer, a diminutive ethnic Chinese male of about thirty, with a shaven head and a neatly trimmed mustache, clad in an immaculate khaki uniform. He walked to the President, snapped into a brace and saluted. The President responded in kind. "Yes Sir, did you require a report on the situation?" The Captain asked politely.

Pleased with the formal behavior, the President lost his ill-humor, and nodded. "Yes, Captain! Firstly, what military units have been diverted to assist in the search for the escapees from the City Jail?"

"The two mobile platoons intended as a reaction force in case of disturbances within the city, Sir! They were the most available. We are currently gathering other troops to replace them in that role. In addition, each of the three primary barracks compounds around the city are being ordered to assemble detachments of thirty men each to join the search if necessary. However, for the moment, they are remaining at their bases." Fan's tone was crisp, his tone precise.

The DMoS nodded. He certainly didn't want more competition for his team then necessary. "A wise precaution, too many soldiers would make too much of a spectacle in the city, and they may be needed to reinforce our troops posted elsewhere in the island." He suddenly noticed the President looking at him narrowly, and wondered what he'd said to raise his suspicions yet again. _"Or did I merely bring his attention back to me, still suspicious of my phone call?"_

LeMonde spoke slowly. "Nevertheless, have them move partway into the city. One detachment to the southwest corner of the Market Quarter, I think, and another to the area of the Hospital. And the third....somewhere equally close to the scene of the action, on the northern side."

Fan clicked his heels and bowed. "Very Well! Your orders will be carried out at once, Sir!" He about-faced and marched out the door. LeMonde turned around to regard his other two companions. "This is an unfortunate incident, but we cannot focus solely on it! We still have a rebellion going on. And maybe a few rebels will pop out of the woodwork to try and aid our escapees. If in fact this wasn't all planned by someone in advance!"

The MoD looked at him curiously. "Are you suggesting someone wanted Miss Possible imprisoned with those two, in order to break them out? If so, it has to be an American plot!"

LeMonde's look soured considerably, then he shook his head. "Letting my imagination run away with me! Edouard would have had to be in on it, at the very least! And if not for me, Dumas would have left the girl in no condition to help anyone escape! Of course, someone plotting this might not have known that, but still...it's too much! No, this is really what it appears to be, an unfortunate coincidence!"

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His words were clearly heard in a room not too far away. Or rather, a suite of rooms, in the second largest hotel on the Island, the sixty year old Hotel Duron.

The penthouse suite had been rented for three weeks by Doctor Theodore Kedden, a noted authority on the history of the West Indies. Proof of which could be obtained from copious Internet sources, and verbally from several colleagues of note. Of course, if the inquiries originated from Isle Drakkon, they ended up at a different destination then those originating from anywhere else.

The sole occupant of the suite gazed across the mile and a half that separated the hotel from the Presidential Residence. "Well, well, things are not following the plan!" Then he smiled. "They're actually proceeding far better than I could have hoped! Time to prepare for my role in tonight's little drama!" He rose and surveyed the former contents of his voluminous baggage, a variety of electronic equipment, computers, and surveillance devices. And four broad, four foot tall lumps covered with bedsheets.

Smiling at them, he turned to a small console. "Time to summon our ride. And hope Kim Possible's little jailbreak continues to succeed, at least for another...forty minutes or so! And that she keeps our two friends alive!"

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And so it goes. Supposed to do this section of the story in two chapters. Like I ever meet my own expectations, lol.

For now, Please Read and Review.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Kim Possible, any of the other characters from that show, or those from any other media I may reference in my stories.

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Though it had to have happened a hundred times before, her phone waking her in the middle of the night still aggravated Betty Director no end. Especially if she had company, 'engaged' or not. This night she was just woken up, rather then interrupted, and only half as irritated as the other case would have made her. "Director" She spoke into the phone, sounding fully alert despite the circumstances, a trick developed from long practice.

"Got some bad, possibly very bad news for you, Betts." Came the voice of her aide, "Kim Possible is on Isle Drakkon."

"What! Dammit, did any of our people...never mind, Wade Load has plenty of other resources, too much to hope she wouldn't learn about Shego's and Drakken's presence! What do we know? Did she go to the Consulate, check into a Hotel, any information?"

"We had agents keeping an eye on the flights taking Mercs to the island, watching for any people we might have been interested in? They were curious about one person they saw board the latest flight. Video analysis ID'd the subject as Kim, sort of disguised. Interesting thing is, the plane came back with all the mercs still aboard. Usually, only two or three turn down whatever sales pitch they get from the Isle Drakkon government." Abby paused briefly, probably to consult her info, "We also have a second-hand report that Kim may have been arrested at the airport, possibly on the orders of a government official she personally ticked off."

Betty made a face. "If Kim ticked off a government official...not her usual style, to say the least." she finished thoughtfully. Betty was aware that her bedmate was definitely awake, and listening attentively. "What was the source?"

"British Intelligence. They kept it vague to avoid giving away exactly where their source is situated. But, they have full confidence in it's accuracy." Abby hesitated, knowing the next question would not have a satisfactory answer to it. "So, what do you want to do?"

Betty's mouth set in a grim line. "Nothing we can do, we have no assets there, no evidence of any activity that falls in our purview." She paused, thinking, "But send a message to GJ South America, see if by some chance Joe has some....well, asset on Isle Drakkon. That's the best we can do, right now."

"Right, I'll get on that immediately. But, what if we had couple of our people decide to take a little holiday..."

Betty cut her off, a touch of regret in her voice. "Won't fly, Abby, tourists aren't exactly flocking there. And regular air service is suspended. Anyone we send will be under full surveillance, and have no idea what's going on when they get there. Unlike some of my contemporaries, I don't send my people in blind, for any reason!"

She heard Abby sigh at the other end. "Yeah, boss, I know, that's one of the things I like about you. Okay, I'll wake Joe up personally, payback for that bit in June. And, I'll keep you informed, of course. Go back to sleep boss, if that's what you were doing..." she added slyly, then hung up before Betty could respond.

Betty put the phone back in it's cradle and lay quietly for a moment, until a voice from beside her spoke up. "Kimberley Anne in some kinda trouble, Love?"

The corners of Betty's mouth quirked slightly. "When is your niece not in some kind of trouble, when she comes to my attention?" She sighed, then slid a little closer to Slim Possible, snuggling closer to his body. "And right now, there's nothing I can do to help. Can't even try and get any more info from the CIA, if they're monitoring the situation. Liaison with them has kind of broken down of late." She looked at Slim, "But that's classified, so you didn't hear anything about a lack of cooperation between two agencies the President specifically ordered to get along."

Slim didn't respond, staring up at the ceiling for a moment. "You know I could do something, but I promised Squi...er, Jimbo that I wouldn't, unless he asked. Ma took his side, too. To a point, of course, family's family, and if it was absolutely life or death...well, you know, told you all this before."

Betty nodded, rolling over to face him completely and laying an arm across his chest. "Hard things to balance, family matters. Always the urge to do everything you can for your family, but afraid to do too much. At least in a family like yours, mine doesn't compare."

Slim heaved a deep sigh, then looked her in the eyes. "Yep. But then again, how many families do you know like mine?" Betty snorted, and Slim grinned briefly, before his gaze drifted up to the ceiling again. "Just have to trust in Kimberley to manage whatever she's gotten into, that's all I can do for the moment..."

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Kim Possible lay prone in the ten foot wide strip of uncut grass between the North-South road and the concrete wall of the West Canal, a narrow space liberally littered with trash. The tall grass was also full of various weeds, some flowering, which helped to conceal her as she studied the three soldiers posted to guard the canal bridge thirty yards away. They were reasonably alert, but also highly agitated over being forced to give up their night's sleep because of the alarm.

She realized she was hesitating again, reluctant to attack these men. She briefly closed her eyes, took a deep, slow breath, then exhaled quietly. She cleared her mind of the moral issues, and centered herself. And brought to her mind her training in stealth, and how she'd acquired it.

And now she became a ghost, rising to a low crouch and side slipping to the wall bordering the canal, which stood three feet high on this side. Peering over it, she perceived a ledge only four inches wide running along it, only three feet from the top, and interrupted at twenty foot intervals by stone buttresses about a foot square. Still, it was a better choice then staying on the near side of the wall. Though the lighting was fitful, with half the streetlights lining the road extinguished for one reason or another, the last ten to fifteen feet before the bridge was brightly lit, and her targets were inside the illuminated area.

She slipped over the wall and found purchase with her toes on the narrow ledge, then moved along the wall, nearly as fast as she could have walked along the other side under normal circumstances. She studied the canal and the far side as she did. Though only forty feet wide, the canal was quite deep, and she was glad she wouldn't have to try and get the two men across by swimming, even if she was confident that she could get them across, though one at a time. The dimly seen wall on the far side looked identical to the one she was moving along, and beyond it was a tall windowless building, probably some kind of warehouse or factory, mainly constructed of red brick from what she could see. Faded advertisements for local businesses were painted on the sides of some, many of the lower ones defaced with graffiti. There were probably more beyond, as she could see the fronts of at least two facing them on the far side of the main road, across the bridge.

Switching her attention to her targets, Kim saw that while two of them leaned on the concrete parapet along the near side of the bridge, the other was striding about, gesticulating wildly, probably complaining about the situation the men were now in. He seemed to be ranging nearly to the far side of the bridge, and was the biggest obstacle to Kim's quick neutralization of the trio. She'd have to try and wait until he was closest to her side before taking the other two out.

Twenty feet short of the bridge, Kim dropped below the level of the wall and froze as she heard a vehicle approach along the road from the north. She hoped the two men were still concealed where she'd left them. After getting over the fence, they'd found themselves in a wide strip of overgrown ground between it and the road, littered with rusting hulks of abandoned cars and other refuse. A couple of small ramshackle huts were the only structures visible. It was unlit, all the streetlights lining the road being angled to illuminate the road only. Kim had found a good place of concealment convenient to her plan, and after explaining her intentions, had left the two men there.

The vehicle turned out to be a fairly new pick-up truck with eight soldiers in it, six in the back. Passing Kim, it turned left and headed eastwards towards the jail, with one or two soldiers in the back exchanging waves with the bridge sentries. Kim then resumed her stealthy approach until she was just below the two guards who were standing still. From her belt she now took two _Yawara _sticks. These were simply short shafts that she wrapped her fingers and thumbs around, leaving a curved knob protruding above and below her fist. The technique for using them emphasized nerves strikes, but they were also useful in techniques used to control a subject, and had been practiced by law enforcement officers in many countries.

Listening to the voice of the talkative soldier, Kim waited until she was fairly certain that he was moving away from her before risking a quick peek over the parapet to fix the locations of the two stationary men. Then she had to wait as the wandering soldier paced in a circle and walked back towards his friends, arms spread wide, and eyes raised to the sky. "I mean, I was with the most beautiful girl I've ever seen! Why couldn't I have found a place farther from de barracks, where Sergeant Lu couldn't find me!"

One of the other soldiers chuckled. "No place you coulda gone, where that little Chinaman wouldn't find you! Nowhere within the area we're allowed to, when the alert's on! I mean, haven't been able to go home to see my family, and they're just on the other side of the city!" The reminder that this was just a man doing a job he may not even have wanted to made Kim grimace as she hid below the parapet.

The third soldier now chimed in. "Speaking of Chinamen, did you hear that that Captain Fan who the President took a liking to is from de Red China?"

The first soldier uttered a short bark of amusement. "Old news, mon. Everyone know that he came here from there six months ago to hide with relatives. He was a soldier there, too, and probably a good one, a 'stick-up-the-ass' kind. Don't know which story about how he met the Pres, and got made a Captain, is the truth, and don't care much. I don't serve under him, he no matter to me! What matters to me is I have to be here instead of in a nice, warm, bed with a beautiful..." As he said this, he again turned his back on his comrades and began to stroll out onto the bridge. And Kim struck.

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From the rooftop of one of the tall windowless buildings west of the canal, Shego had been studying the three soldiers too, as well as the overgrown and junk filled area across the canal. She'd been there for ten minutes, but hadn't spotted anything of interest. The buildings were warehouses, basically, but narrow ones compared to what Shego was used to. They had only two floors, but they were each as tall as three normal stories, or close enough. There were only two entrances, a personnel door on one side, and a large door meant to accommodate a truck on the street side. Due to the narrowness of the street, and absence of sidewalks, a busy day on this street was probably pure chaos. There were six or seven warehouses on each side of the street, each separated by an alley too narrow for anything but a bike or motorcycle to drive through. Or a very small compact car.

Shego had been very attentive to the soldiers and their surroundings, so it was a big shock to her when a dark figure suddenly appeared on the bridge parapet behind the two soldiers. Shego couldn't even make out the strikes that followed, but the figure was already on the roadway behind the third soldier before the first two even began to collapse. If the attack on the first pair made any noise to alert the third, he didn't have time to react to it before the attacker had reached and dropped him.

Shego looked from the three downed soldiers and their attacker to the far side of the canal, trying to figure out how Kim, because she was certain who it was, had managed to approach the soldiers without her noticing._ "When's the last time Kimmie tried to surprise me, when I wasn't expecting her to show up? I don't think I've ever tried to actually spot her coming, I just knew when she was close. She's better then I thought."_

Now she watched as Kim dragged one of the soldiers who she'd first felled farther into the roadway. Shego looked farther down the street to the east, and distantly spotted a squad of soldiers standing casually at an intersection. Even if they looked Kim's way, though, they might not spot her. Not that Shego cared, she was worried about the two men supposed to be with Kim. Studying the far side of the canal, she mainly focused on the shadowed area beyond the streetlights, the overgrown, junk-strewn area. _"Unless Kimmie abandoned those two, and she certainly didn't, then they're in _there_ somewhere, I'll bet!"_

Looking back down, Shego barely glimpsed Kim before the girl disappeared from her sight, moving swiftly westward across the bridge and along the street. Shego slipped silently to the front corner of the building closest to the bridge, and spotted Kim across the street. The alley between the warehouse directly opposite the one Shego perched on and it's next neighbor to the west was blocked by a solid wooden fence about six feet tall. Kim crouched at the base of it, her backpack off, doing something...

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Kim opened up her backpack and reached into a side pocket inside, withdrawing a thick, flat, square package. She set this on the ground, closed her pack, and put it back on. Taking the package, she opened one end, revealing two metal cylinders plugged in to the bulk of the package, and a small electric switch. She flipped the switch, then put the package down and stepped back, still crouching, while she checked the street in both directions. On the ground, the package began to expand.

Kim and Ron had once gone on a mission that had started going downhill. Ron had suffered a blow to the head and was unconscious, and both teens were being hotly pursued. Kim had thought of decoying them away, but realized it would be fruitless. There was no cover, and though their pursuers weren't going to shoot at her, they'd easily see that Ron wasn't with her, and realize that she'd left him somewhere. So instead, she'd made a stand. Fortunately, it was a GJ mission, and the cavalry arrived in the nick of time. But afterwards, Kim went to Wade with an idea, if the sitch ever came up again.

The result of that idea was growing on the ground before her, a life-sized decoy. Two types of gas were needed to give it proper structure, one to fill I tout in general, one to fill it's 'skeleton'. It was designed so that the joints moved realistically, with rubber 'tendons' inside. It's face was pretty featureless, but it wasn't supposed to fool anyone up close. The color of it's skin could be changed with heat generated by a small battery, from pale to dark. Brushing it's hair one way would make it light, smoothing it the other way, dark. It's clothing had many panels held shut by Velcro that could be reversed, again going from light to dark. It's sole purpose was to simulate an unconscious person being carried by another, or other wise act as a decoy.

Kim hadn't told Ron about it, more because the idea of him carrying an 'inflatable Kim' around with him was slightly disturbing, and she was sure he would want to be able to pull the same trick if Kim was too hurt to move. Even though that was a good idea, Kim was reluctant to entertain the notion, and wasn't sure why.

Once the decoy was fully inflated, she adjusted the clothing panels as much as possible to resemble the clothes Baronne had worn. She doubted the soldiers would know how their targets were dressed, but nevertheless she did it. Then she boosted the decoy up onto the fence, so it hung half over it. Then she took a deep breath, and ran back towards the soldiers she'd knocked out....

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Shego's eyebrows rose as she watched the girl dash about below her. She saw her return to the unconscious men, take up one of their rifles, and make adjustments to it. She then leaned it against the parapet, went to one of the soldiers, and then boost him up, bracing him against the bridge parapet. She then laid the barrel of the rifle across the parapet, pointing down at the canal waters. She then fired one shot and dropped the rifle, using both hands to move the man around as if he was still conscious, and struggling with her.

Down the road, the soldiers reacted to the shot by dashing towards the bridge. Kim waited only long enough to be sure they saw her, then dropped the soldier and ran back towards where she'd left the decoy. Because of the range, the soldiers chose to continue running towards her, rather then firing. In any event, while one light shown down on the bridge, she quickly left it's circle of illumination and vanished into the darkness beyond.

Reaching their fallen comrades, most of the soldiers stopped to check on them. Only two continued the pursuit, and only spotted Kim again when they emerged from the circle of light, and their eyes adjusted. What they saw, or believed they saw, was Kim boosting someone over the fence ahead of them, then clambering over herself, before they could even decide whether to fire on her or not. They started towards the fence, but lost enthusiasm when they saw their squad mates weren't following.

Then five men came from the north and crossed the bridge towards the two soldiers, moving at a trot. In the distance beyond them, the APC Kim had seen earlier swung into the street, and also headed towards the bridge. "What did you see?" The apparent leader of the five men barked at them.

One soldier spun and pointed at the fence. "We saw someone, the person who overwhelmed the bridge guards, boosting another man over the fence. Then they climbed over themselves. We did not follow, because our squad leader decided to care for our injured!" He expected some kind of criticism, at least a sneer, from the man, but instead he gave a curt nod, and headed for the fence himself, his men right behind him.

Shego watched the five mercenaries reach the fence, and climb over it cautiously. The unconscious soldiers were being dragged to the side of the bridge so the APC could pass, but it stopped in the middle of the bridge, and an officer got out, and questioned the two soldiers. Studying the fence, he barked some orders to the squad on the bridge, then got back in the APC, which proceeded down the street.

Shego turned to the five members of her 'team', locals she'd given some training to, though she'd selected them in the first place because they had some skill at stealth. Four were waiting eagerly for her orders, the other was at the opposite corner of the roof, as he should be. "Kimmie's leading the chase Southwest. She left our guys somewhere over there, I'll bet." She pointed at the darkened strip across the canal. "Probably with orders to slip across the ditch on the bridge there, when enough of the searchers move west of the canal. If she left them alone, they're mobile, at least enough to fend for themselves. Or, she could have told them to hide in one of those shacks, or under one of the wrecks, but I doubt it. If she gets caught, they'll guess where she left them. Now we have to get to them, or watch for them to make their move, once..." She broke off as the sound of heavy vehicles came from the street.

Back at the roof's edged, she smiled as she saw the two truckloads of soldiers passing by beneath her. She banished the smile before turning again to her men. "There goes the reaction platoon, they're switching their search west of the canal. Let's get moving, we need to take advantage of this." One of her soldiers hesitated. "Maybe one or two of us should follow the girl, in case she runs into trouble?" Shego didn't even seem to hesitate before shaking her head. "Kimmie's on her own, she didn't need to get involved, and those two men are more important." Her head snapped around at a distant rumble. She listened a moment, then shook her head again. "No time to waste, the City is going to get hot quite soon. Let's get going, and no arguments!"

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The rumbling noise was a lot closer to the commander of the Northeast barracks compound. In fact, it was all around him, and was causing him to scream invective into his phone. Which was the main reason his garrison was being targeted, just because he was the officer most likely to yell for help at the slightest cause. And because he was connected, and had a reputation of possessing a nasty and vengeful temperament. Mind you, the cause for his distress wasn't minor, it was quite violent and loud, pinning the soldiers inside the buildings, shattering windows and doing a fair impersonation of an earthquake.

In reality, the explosives were more noisy then dangerous, having been supplied by Duff Killigan, tailor made for their purpose. The delivery systems were a quartet of old 4.2 inch mortars, manned by the minimum number of men possible, in case the firing sites were discovered and attacked, the weapons would merely be abandoned. But the bombardment, never meant to cause serious damage or casualties, served it's purpose. The garrison commander bullied the officer commanding the Army's armored reserve, such as it was, to come to his rescue immediately.

Said reserve consisted of four four-wheeled armored cars, two of French manufacture, armed with a 60mm gun-mortar, and two Brazilian, with just a machine gun each. They were quartered three blocks north of the Presidential residence, and their crews were restricted to quarters, to insure a rapid response to any alarm. So, twenty minutes after receiving the request for aid, the four vehicles rolled out of their little compound, formerly the largest civilian garage in the city.

They drove south past the Presidential Residence to the main square, then swung east on the main East-West street, one of only two in the city that was four lanes wide. They maintained a speed of forty miles per hour, despite the fact that the streets were deserted, and a spacing of thirty yards between vehicles, in case of an ambush. But other then that precaution, the crews showed no indication they really feared such an event. Driving with hatches open, with all four vehicle commanders up in the hatches watching more for a sudden appearance of cross-traffic then enemies. Hitting some civilian on a scooter or bike cutting in front of them was a far bigger concern then the rebels.

As they passed one alleyway, four engines rumbled to life in it's shadows. When the last armored car had passed, four odd looking motorcycles rolled out of the alley, and turned in pursuit. They were built low to the ground, with wide tires, and a frame that extended above the rider, holding a weapon based on the Carl Gustav recoilless rifle. The riders rode in the manner associated with a 'crotch-rocket' type of motorcycle, and were able to aim the weapons with a laser-targeting system fitted to them. Reloading by the driver was impossible while moving, though. The bikes were all matte-black, the drivers also dressed head-to-toe in the same color, with full coverage helmets on.

Due to the well-tuned engines on the bikes, as well as the slightly less cared-for engines on the cars, they were able to overtake them without being heard. The Commanders' attention being focused forwards helped as well. Soon the four bikes were right behind the cars, in the next lane over. Though they ran the risk of one of the vehicle crew looking back for some reason, they hung back for a minute as hand signals were made by the lead rider. Then he gave a thumb's up, and put both hands back on the handlebars, and revved his throttle, shooting ahead past the trailing three cars, then swinging in between the lead car and the second in the column. The other three bikes also moved up and swung in behind one of the armored cars each, so all four were targetted from the rear.

The commander of that car had heard the increased roar as the bike accelerated, but it's speed was such that he had barely registered it's odd appearance before it was between his vehicle and the one in front of him. Then he hesitated over the dilemma of whether to depress his weapons and fire the co-axial machine gun, risking damage to the lead vehicle. All that delay gave the biker enough time to switch on his laser and target the lead vehicle's engine. When he fired, the back blast caused the vehicle commander behind him to drop into the turret, only to feel the impact of a rocket slamming into the engine of his own vehicle.

In fact all four armored cars were knocked out within the space of five seconds, the bikes easily swinging out around their victims as they came to abrupt stops. They then accelerated away for two blocks, before swinging down a side street. Behind them, the crews of the four vehicles bailed out, some injured, but none killed, as smoke and in one case flames poured out of their vehicles.

The four bikes soon reached another alley on the outskirts of the city, and swung into a fenced-in yard. Rolling to a stop, the drivers braced their bikes and dismounted. The leader pulled his helmet off, and shook his head, running his fingers through his blond mullet. "That was Righteous!" He exclaimed, but then frowned, "Wish the leader had been one of the big ones, not one of the little rolling boxes! That's the only thing that's bogus about this gig, the main man should have bagged a big one!" Continuing to shake his head regretfully, Motor Ed walked over to a local who had emerged from a shack in the middle of the yard. Others ran forward with tarpaulins to cover the bikes. "May I report a successful conclusion to your mission to the Doctor, _Monsieur _Lipsky_?" _the man asked politely.

"Huh?" Ed responded, snapping out of his reverie, "Oh, yeah, dude, it went just like we planned it. Kind of nice to have that happen once in a while, but then Red isn't here to mess things up. Yeah, call Cousin Drew and tell him the armor's _kaput_, dude!" He headed into the shack, "And I hope you kept the beer cold, dude, can't have a warm _brewski_ harshing my chill, you know?"

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Kim, with 'inflatable Ron' slung over her shoulder, was making good time along the alley behind the warehouses on the south side of the street. A plank fence was on her left as she ran, an occasional tree visible over it. As a diversion, she'd hidden a compressed air cartridge under an empty trash can alongside the fence. When it fell over, her pursuers _might_ assume the can was knocked over by someone climbing over that fence, that was heading farther south. It would be triggered by either of two sensors she'd placed in different alleyways leading back to the street to the north. The way she'd placed them, whoever set them off would do so just before entering the main alley, so they'd probably see the can still rolling.

For now, she kept heading west. The airport was back that way, as well as the hotel recommended to her what seemed like ages ago. Not that either was her destination, but she was fairly certain the US Consulate was in this direction, too.

A sudden clatter far behind her, as the can was knocked over, and a shout told her she may have been partially successful in decoying _some_ of the searchers. She came to the end of the fence, which met the wall of another warehouse, this one at right angles to the others, it's main entrance on it's west end, facing another north-south street. Kim cautiously approaching the entrance to the alley it formed. Peeking northwards first, she grimaced when she saw the APC from earlier parked right in the middle of the intersection, a dozen soldiers gathered around an officer. From his gestures, Kim could guess that he was assigning them different streets to move down.

The alley entrance was dark, but there was a functioning streetlight to the south, her left. And no way she could get through the area it illuminated without being visible to any of the soldiers if they looked her way. Dashing straight across might work, but she would be silhouetted by the light, and even for the short period of her dash, it was a risk. Crossing the alley entrance, she studied the area she'd have to cross. It was just too open to risk. Going back and climbing over the southern fence was an option, but pursuit was coming from that direction, and she'd probably decoyed some of them over the fence herself. And she had no idea how much cover was on the far side. Picking the lock on the warehouse door was another option, but not one she wanted to take. That left one other way to go.

Moving about ten yards back down the alley, cautiously watching for said pursuit, she took out a one-use grapple Wade had made her. It made even less noise then her old hair dryer/grappling gun, and the line disintegrated after three minutes. She aimed for the cornice of the building on the south side, and fired. She got a solid connection, settled 'Ron' on her shoulder, and began to climb.

Once on the roof, Kim considered just settling down and waiting. She brought out her Kimmunicator, and tried to find out if the local army had any helicopters. Or the police, for that matter. As she linked to the Internet and considered how best to enter her search, something happened. The hair on the back of her neck rose up, and a shiver ran down her spine. She shut off the device and put it away, while scanning the nearby rooftops. Seeing nothing at her own height, she slipped closer to the north edge of the roof and peered back down into the alley. She was fairly sure her head wasn't silhouetted against the sky, but she still exercised caution.

It took several seconds, but then she saw a shadow shift slightly, against the far wall of the alley. Then two more suddenly appeared, moving swiftly past the first, before one moved too close to the near wall for her to see. The other stopped just short of the alley entrance. Kim was certain the line was gone by now, but wondered how long the first shadow, the point man, had been there. Had he seen it, before it disintegrated?

She rolled back from the edge of the roof. The parapet was only about eight inches high, not much cover from anyone on adjacent buildings. She wondered how big a team was stalking her, and whether they had split up to pass down both sides of the building she was on. She crept to the opposite edge and looked down cautiously. Immediately below her was nothing but deep shadows, but she thought she could make out a plank fence about ten feet from the wall, running parallel to it. Beyond, she saw a darkened house. From the little reflected light from the streetlights, she saw that it appeared to have an old-fashioned tile roof, though she wasn't certain of the color in the dim light. Looking to the left, it appeared there was one house in every other lot along the next street, which appeared to her to be gravel and dirt.

But what worried her was the shadowed alley below. She had no way to check if anyone was there, that wouldn't give her away in turn. And she suddenly didn't want to stay on the roof any longer, either. So after a moment's thought she pulled a coil of line with a special hook on it out of her pack. She then went back to 'Ron'. Using the Velcro strips from the reversible panels, she fixed the decoy's calves and forearms together, then threaded the line through the thighs and inside the arms. The fingers were slightly pliable, and she did her best to make it look as if they were grasping the line. Looping the lower end around each thigh in turn, she was left with enough slack to reach the ground, but she wasn't sure she could lower the decoy all the way down with what was left above it's fingers.

Moving to the south edge of the roof, she threw the line over the edge, and set the hook. Then she did her best to manipulate the decoy so that it looked like a person edging over the parapet and then beginning to climb down. The darkness helped, of course, only the faintest of illumination from the streetlights shone on this part of the wall. The dark red bricks of the wall also helped pull off the illusion. Kim slowly lowered the decoy down. Just when she estimated it was about to reach the ground, the line was suddenly jerked out of her hand. She didn't wait to hear the muffled curse from the alley below as her deception was discovered, but rolled away from the parapet and rose into a crouch, considering her options. The only obvious one would be to leap to an adjacent rooftop. The warehouse she was on had it's long access running east to west, unlike the one's she'd come past earlier. From it's roof, she could possibly jump to either of two warehouses that faced northwards. Neither appealed to her because of the distance involved, but she couldn't stay where she was.

A crash from below as someone forced the personnel door reinforced the need for haste. The lack of louder activity puzzled her. Why hadn't whoever was after her called for help from the soldiers deploying from the intersection? She pushed that thought aside. Taking another one-shot grapple from her belt, She decided on her target. The westernmost of the two warehouses she could reach was on the corner. Even if she reached it, she couldn't stay there, either. She was going to have to keep moving eastwards along the row of warehouses back towards the bridge again. She tried to remember just how many there were. Six or seven was her best guess. Right now, she prepared to jump to the second from the corner.

Wishing for all the world Wade had really perfected a backpack rocket pack, or his one-shot compressed air system had been more stable, Kim backed as close to the roof's edge as she dared, then began her run. Reaching the opposite side, she launched herself across the alley. And cleared the opposite parapet by a good three feet. Her landing was well executed, and she came to her feet quickly, heading for a point from which to jump to the next rooftop eastwards.

Then another thought struck her. She would be leading the search back towards where the two men were hidden, and If they had obeyed her instructions, they would not have moved until they had a clear path to the bridge northwards across the feeder ditch. What if they hadn't managed it yet? She sighed deeply, and made her decision.

Kim went back to the southern parapet of the building, shrugged off her backpack, and threw herself flat behind it, trying to make herself and the pack as small as possible. She'd barely managed it when she heard a sharp noise from the roof from which she'd jumped. She resisted the impulse to try and take a peek. After a moment, she thought she heard someone speaking in a low voice, before it was drowned out by a shout, which seemed to come from the alley below. One of the search party soldiers had spotted the forced door. There came the sound of booted feet, then an exchange of shouts, apparently inside the adjacent warehouse. It seemed that whoever had followed her this far was identifying themselves to the soldiers, trying to avoid getting shot themselves.

When the angry shouting stopped, she heard questions being yelled back and forth. Then a voice used to being obeyed came up from the alley below. "She could be in any of these warehouses along here, they'll all have to be searched, _but..._more importantly, she doesn't have the two men with her, she was leading us away from them.." Hearing this, Kim reached into a compartment of her belt, as the voice continued, "So I'll bet they're both still back across the canal, we have to get back over there! Was a guard left on the bridge across the ditch, or whatever?" Whatever reply was forthcoming was interrupted as Kim tossed one of Wade's gas grenades, Mark Five she thought this one was, down amongst them, aiming mostly by sound. Even though only her arm was briefly exposed, she had the bad fortune to have one mercenary on the roof she'd leaped from spot the movement.

A short burst of fire slammed into the parapet she hid behind, forcing her to press herself flatter, hands covering her head. Then she fumbled for a smoke bomb, which she tossed blindly towards the firer. He of course had no idea what the object was, and threw himself flat. Kim jumped to her feet, dropped another smoke bomb at her own feet, then quickly moved to the center of the roof as the smoke billowed up behind her, putting her pack back on and adjusting the straps.

Lining up her jump hastily, she successfully made it to the next rooftop eastwards. Without pausing to recover, she then took the leap to the next one. This time her landing was a bit off because one foot hit a soft section of the roof, but she wasn't hurt, only delayed in her recovery. She regained her feet gingerly, then positioned herself for another leap. She was hoping that Wade's gas had taken effect on the leaders of the troops pursuing her. One of it's many effects was one similar to helium when inhaled, but more extreme. Hopefully it would be several minutes before they could give coherent orders in person. By radio, it would be longer still, their voices so high-pitched as to be painful to listen to. Kim had to take as much advantage as possible of the delay.

But she was momentarily distracted by the flashes coming from the northeast. She'd heard and vaguely registered the rumbling noise from that direction earlier, but had dismissed it as thunder. _"Kinda naive there, Possible! There is a __revolution going on here, after all!" _Some instinct cut off her musings and she spun around to face the way she'd come. She barely had time to register the form of a man in combat gear, one arm extended above his head and forwards, hand open...and then the flash-bang grenade went off.

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Henri Baronne and Henry Lucas were at that moment studying the bridge over the feeder ditch, trying to spot any guards. They were hidden in the tall grass around one of the wrecked cars, the closest cover they could find to the bridge. To reach it, they would have to move across a short strip of open ground, then cross the paved street leading back towards the jail, then cover the short distance to the bridge itself, with no cover except the darkness. Though there was a light on the bridge itself, it was currently not working.

Baronne turned to Lucas. "Are you ready for this, my friend?" he whispered. Lucas nodded grimly, and the two crept forward from concealment, moving towards the intersection. But before they had gone three steps, a hand clamped down on Baronne's shoulder and pulled him backwards. Another covered his mouth, though he hadn't been about to make any noise. "Wait, Sir!" A voice hissed in his ear, "We're making sure the bridge is clear!" He turned his head enough to see a vaguely familiar face, belonging to a man in night combat gear, including night-vision goggles, currently pushed up on his forehead. Deducing that he was in friendly hands, Baronne allowed himself to be pulled back to the fringe of the tall grass.

Two or three minutes passed. Then the young man beside him put a hand to his ear, and nodded. He looked at Baronne. "There were no guards posted on the bridge, Sir. We can get moving, now!" He lead the way, followed by Baronne, another young man similarly dressed to the first, Henry Lucas, and lastly a third rebel. They moved slowly except crossing the street. The lead rebel stopped and kept watch to the east as the others crossed, then fell in behind.

Though nerve-wracking, they made it to the bridge without incident, where another rebel waited. They crossed over, and were met by Shego. The streets to the north were silent and empty. Shego handed each man an energy bar. Kim Possible had given them each one earlier to take the edge of their hunger. "Gentlemen, I know you're tired, but we can't wait here, we have to keep moving until we have you in a safe location. If all goes according to plan, you won't be there long." The pale thief briefed them.

"What about Miss Possible?" Henry Lucas asked.

Shego grimaced. "We don't know where she is, but if she's moving away from us, we won't catch up with her, that's for sure! And we can't risk going where the soldiers are gathered..." She broke off, looking southwards down the road in concern. The others turned to see the ubiquitous APC and two trucks rolling across the distant bridge. "Looks like they figured out she was a decoy, boys, we have to get moving, and no arguments, please!"

After only a brief hesitation, Baronne allowed one of the rebels to take his arm and guide him northwards. Quietly, he murmured a prayer for Kim Possible as they ran.

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The Presidential Residence was very well lit on the outside, and protected by forty mercenaries. Twenty were on duty, twelve on the ground, and eight on the roof. They were determined not to be caught by surprise from above, or be caught not looking up, an occasional weakness of sentries. But at the moment, some things were amiss. All the rooftop guards were sprawled on the roof, sleeping. And certain key upwards-shining lights had been extinguished. A solitary figure stood near one corner of the roof, gazing towards the Hotel Duron, nodding to himself occasionally. Shortly, two objects descended silently from directly above the Residence, lining up on the two balconies that led into the President's office.

Inside, the President was reacting, badly, to the news of the rolling ambush that had befallen his armored reserve. "Was not the officer in charge of the reserve told to consult me before committing them?!" He barked into a phone. After listening a moment, he winced sharply, before his face returned to rage. "Yes I know that fool probably threatened him with all sorts of nasty consequences if he didn't respond, but he still should have notified us, even after sending them out!" Another pause to listen, his brow knitting in consternation, "Well, word did not get to _me!_ Find out what happened, unless he's lying about notifying us! If he is....I'll decide later! Keep me informed, and let me know if the rebels do more then harass that _cochon _I had to put in charge of one of my barracks!" He hung up after hearing a hasty response, then turned to see the DmoS pulling his cellphone out again.

"Now what? Are you..." LeMonde's question was broken off as thee was a sharp knock at the door, and It opened to admit his cousin Edouard, who was affecting an air of nonchalance as he entered. He directed a disarming smile at the President, who immediately prepared to wipe it off. But something else beat him to it. Edouard's gaze shifted to a point behind his cousin, and his expression quickly changed to shock.

LeMonde spun around as well to regard three intruders just inside the balcony doors, his eyes widening in stunned surprise. He had no time to notice that two more had entered from the other balcony before one of the three he faced spoke up.

"Gentlemen, allow me to introduce myself. I am Doctor Drakken..."

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And so it goes. Two intended chapters stretched into three, and now apparently four. Oh well.

Please Read and Review.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Kim Possible, any of the other characters from that show, or those from any other media I may reference in my stories. And for the record, any portrayal of a political office holder in this story is not meant to represent and real life person.

I'd like to Thank Robert Teague, King in Yellow, and Von Uriken for reviewing my previous chapters, and Robert Teague for previewing this one.

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It was just as well that Betty and Slim were unable to get back to sleep, since a second phone call was not long behind the first. It interrupted a technical conversation. Honestly.

"Well, The new surveillance drone design's ready as I can make it, Love, we might's well begin production." Slim was saying, "Though I don't see the rush, you say yore brother still hasn't figured out how t' counter my last design yet."

Betty smiled grimly. "No, but he will! So, while the old design is still a secret, I'm going to use it as bait to try and uncover some of his people in my organization, and some of our allies. I mean, he tried to infiltrate _six_ of his people into our last training class, and three of them were recommended...Damn!" she cursed as the phone interrupted her. Picking it up, she checked the caller ID and scowled. "Doctor Director." She said.

"Please hold for the President, Madame." Came an officious voice in reply. Betty's eye widened, and she took a quick look around at Slim, and pulled the covers up over her chest. Slim gave her a one-eyed squint. She mouthed 'The President' just as the Chief Executive's voice sounded in her ear. Slim snorted quietly.

"Doctor Director, Sorry to call you at this hour, I'm in Europe, as you may know. I'll get right to the point. I have just received word that Kim Possible is on Isle Drakkon, as well as a known supervillain and his associate. The latter pair are one thing, but I need to know, is Miss Possible there officially? Even though we are a charter member of Global Justice, and a supporter of your organization, we can't condone getting that young lady involved in an armed revolt against a non-hostile government!" He broke off to draw breath, and Betty heard someone talking quietly to him in the background as she marshaled her response.

"Mister President, Kim Possible is not there because of us. In fact, I withheld from her the information regarding the presence there of Doctor Drakken and Shego in order to prevent her getting involved. In retrospect, I _should_ have told her, and then forbade her to go. Or rather, gotten her parents to forbid her going. I'm very worried about her, but I can't do a thing to help her, much as I'd like to!"

There was silence for a long moment from the other end, then a heavy sigh. "I see. I trust you not to lie to me, Doctor Director, something a few others running our intelligence community don't deserve. So, I'll accept your declaration of non-involvement here. It would reflect badly on our government if it was thought that we were interfering in that country's politics, and using a teenaged girl? I'll try and get the State Department to try and locate her, and ask her to leave Isle Drakkon, but nothing is going to happen on that score tonight. Again, I apologize for waking you, have a good night, Madame." And he was gone before Betty could respond.

Betty returned the phone to it's place. "Now the President knows about Kim, and _he's_ worried!"

"Kinda gathered that." Slim responded dryly, "He'll just have to join the rest of us, I reckon!"

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The mercenary who had thrown the flash-bang grenade had done so from the parapet of the adjacent warehouse, so as it detonated over Kim's head, and as she reeled and fell, he had to back up to make a running jump across to where she'd fallen. He directed his leap to land some distance from her, making a rolling landing and coming to his feet, swinging around to bring his rifle to bear.

Only to find something increasing the momentum of that swing, something with a firm hold on his rifle, swinging him and it past the point where he could keep his balance, and sending him tumbling across the roof. The fall wasn't hard, and he retained his grip on his gun, _and_ he recovered quickly from his surprise that Kim wasn't incapacitated. He assumed the girl would make a follow-up attack, and got up quickly, setting himself in a defensive stance until he got his bearings. But even as he picked her dark form out in the very faint light, standing stationary about twelve feet away, something hit him in the face.

Something slimy, sticky, and totally disgusting. His eyes burned, his nose burned, and he clamped his mouth shut instinctively to keep any from getting in. Whatever it was was gelatinous, and adhered to his skin. It blocked his eyes and nose, and he could do nothing but try and pull it off. As he did, he heard the sound of running feet, and then a grunt of effort, almost obscured by a sharp _'bang_' near his head, which caused him to stagger and fall, still struggling with whatever had hit his face. When he finally realized it was all in one piece, it took him nearly a minute to peel it off, and only then wondered how he'd been able to breath through it.

He quickly looked eastwards, where the faintest glimmer of pre-dawn light was visible, but mostly washed out by the lights of the city. There was no sign of movement on any of the three warehouse roofs in that direction. _"Did she have time to jump to another? Dammit, I was so close! A teenage girl, I'll never live this down!"_ He turned a quick three-sixty, and lost most of his night vision when he looked north, where light from the street below glared over the parapet. Apparently all the vehicles in the street had their lights on, and half the soldiers were using flashlights or lanterns of some kind. _"Lot easier hunting a kid who doesn't shoot back at you, I've had enough of the kind who do!"_

He now paid more attention to a voice in his ear, which had been speaking for a while, but been ignored while he dealt with the threat of possible suffocation. Except he hadn't felt like his air had been cut off. He now saw that what had covered his face was riddled with spaces where he could see his glove through some kind of thin material. Deciding it wasn't that important, he flung it away(It didn't adhere to his gloves very strongly, which had added difficulty to pulling it off.) and answered his team leader's urgent requests for information regarding the explosion of the grenade, and the state of their prey.

"Yes, Sir, that was my grenade, flashbang, thought I got her with it, too, but she must have had something inside her headgear to negate the bang, and don't think the flash caught her eyes. She surprised me when I jumped across, disabled me with some kind of...hell, I don't know what to call it, and jumped to the next roof eastwards. Took me close to two minutes to clear my sight, no telling how far she could have gone, maybe dove into the canal by now!"

There was a long pause before his team leader replied. "That's possible, our supports are doing a shitty job maintaining a proper perimeter, but she also might be inside one of the warehouses. Check the roof access on yours, just in case. Oh, and some soldiers are inside, working their way up to the roof. You want to come down through the building, or try jumping to the next one yourself?"

The Merc took in a big lungful of air and exhaled again, then winced. "Truthfully Sir, my balance seems a little less then perfect, I don't really know just how that stuff affected me, rather not try anything right now." He paused as he pulled a small flashlight out and played it over the hinges and handle on the square hatch set in the roof. "This hatch hasn't been opened in a bit, sir. No rust, but some debris that would have been dislodged if it had been." He heard noises from below the hatch. "Sounds like the troops are here now, be down in a minute, Sir."

"Very Well. Let the soldiers hunt Possible, you join us east of the canal. I'm now pretty sure she left our targets there, and used that dummy Rawlins tackled off the rope to fool us. Catch up as soon as possible, soldier! Out."

The Merc looked heavenwards, spreading his arms in a helpless gesture. "Why me, I have to ask, why me?" A sharp noise from below was followed by the hatch slowly raising. Suddenly concerned about trigger-happy soldiers, he circled to the back of the hatch, and announced himself cautiously. "All clear up here, hold your fire!" The hatch stopped, and a short verbal exchange followed, before both sides were satisfied. Two soldiers climbed up out of the hatch, one holding a flashlight loosely in his hands, but the merc wasted no time, and started downstairs. "She's gotten away, guys, clean away!" He called behind him as he descended. The two soldiers looked after him, then at each other, then shrugged and descended themselves.

When the hatch finally closed, Kim Possible breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed. She lay prone against the northern parapet where the glare from the street had hidden her from enemy eyes. Her head ached abominably, so she reached to a compartment on her belt and pulled out a plastic tube. Popping open a cap at one end, she took the two pain relievers inside into her mouth. Unscrewing the cap from the other end, she used the mouthful of water inside to wash them down.

She did indeed have protection against sudden high intensity noise like a flashbang built into her hood, but it only reduced the effect, it didn't negate it entirely. And she had been lucky with the flash. She had acted more on instinct then thought when she had engaged the merc as he landed on the roof, but had quickly realized that a prolonged fight was a bad idea, and used the latest of Wade's 'stink' devices to end it. Faking the leap to the next roof had been easy, save for nearly overbalancing and falling when she stopped her faked lead-up run to the edge. The little noisemaker she'd popped to conceal the lack of any noise from her landing on the next roof had apparently worked, she'd managed to creep past the struggling man undetected to reach her hiding place.

Her pack lay alongside the parapet next to her head. She reached inside and pulled out a hairbrush, then took out her Kimmunicator. She worked on the hairbrush a moment, and the brush part slid off to reveal a flat antenna composed of stiff wire. She then removed half of the handle, revealing a coiled lead that she then plugged into a port in the Kimmunicator. Powering it up, she worked through the menus to find the program she wanted and activated it. She then swept the 'brush-scanner' over herself and her back pack, while watching the Kimmunicator's screen. When she was done, she nodded to herself, reassembled the hairbrush, and stowed it away again in her pack. _"No tracking devices. I guess one of them saw me climb that building, but was too far away to do anything except shoot me, which they didn't want to do, it seems. Just bad luck, or good, depends how you look at it!"_

Now she switched back to map mode, and called up the satellite maps again, zooming in on her own location. The two rows of warehouses on either side of the street looked like two rows of dominoes, six on the north side, seven on the south. She was on the center one on the south side. Then there was the one she had first climbed to the top of, the one that ran at right angles to the others, across the backs of the two westernmost ones. The tall fence that ran from it to the canal to form the alley behind the row of warehouses was not clearly shown, nor the fence that formed a separate alley on it's south and east sides, though shadows suggested the presence of both.

"_Do I have to get off this roof? They've cleared it, they may even believe I dove into the canal from the easternmost one." _She frowned,_ "That may be wishful thinking, if it turns out someone was placed where they would have noticed that. I can't stay, but how to get down?"_

She looked towards the roof hatch. _"If they've finished searching inside, maybe I can get down there and find a hiding place?"_ Then she stopped, closing her eyes for a minute. _"Forgetting something. Possible?" _She entered a new command into the Kimmunicator, and a flashing icon appeared on the screen showing the map, right at the edge, with a small arrow pointing northeast. She zoomed the image out until the icon moved away from the edge, and breathed a sigh of relief. The little transmitter she'd given Henry Lucas was north of the feeder channel and well to the east, showing that the two men had made it across undetected. But then Kim noticed the movement of the icon. It was moving west-southwest, and not following the path of any streets or alleys. When it crossed the channel and then the canal without deviating, she realized it had to be flying._ "Now what's going on?"_

0000000000

The President of the Sovereign Island of Isle Drakkon, Robert Jean-Baptiste LeMonde, hadn't had many shocks since his ascension to virtual rulership of the Island. Having the leader of the revolution against him suddenly appear in his office certainly made up for all the ones he'd missed, however. And Drakken had not appeared alone.

The scientist was flanked by two rather lethal-looking robots, and another pair were just inside the other balcony door, all four with weapons of unknown capabilities aimed at the four men in the office. LeMonde himself had no intentions of finding out those capabilities personally. Still, some things he had read about the creations of Doctor Drakken came back to him, and gave him some very shaky reassurance.

"I must say, having the three most important leaders of the Government, intellect-wise, gather themselves in one convenient place worked out rather nicely for me." As Drakken spoke, he moved over to the desk. A buckled belt with a holstered automatic was hung around a bust of a former island notable. Drakken removed the pistol from the holster and emptied it. He then opened the center desk drawer, removed another gun, and emptied it. He then reached under the center part of the desk, removed a third pistol from a holster fixed there, and unloaded it, too.

As LeMonde watched with growing incredulity, the villain found and unloaded the pistol hidden behind the couch, and the fifth one hidden in a secret compartment in the chair behind the desk. Then as the President fidgeted nervously, Drakken lifted the desk lamp up, to reveal a pink-anodized, pearl handled .25 automatic. Embarassed, LeMonde looked at his three companions. "I ordered it for one of my mistresses, but threw her out before it arrived!" He explained tightly.

"I'm sure." Drakken commented sarcastically as he sat down in the chair behind the desk. "Now, This little revolution is over, save the shouting."

LeMonde swelled with outrage. As Edouard backed slowly towards the door, the President spoke angrily. "I think NOT! Do you think by coming in here, into my palace, my office, with four of your mechanical devices, that the fight is over? This palace has a garrison of forty well-paid, highly competent, professional mercenaries! Can your four robots beat them? I've heard that your efforts to build such creations has a somewhat spotty history, is that not so?"

Drakken shrugged. "True, my Mark I Destructo-Droids had terrible motor controls. The Mark IIs had a lousy fire control system, and the Mark IIIs A poor AI! But these are Mark IVs, with the motor controls of the Mark IIs, the AI from the Is, and the fire control from the IIIs, all of which worked well enough! If you'd care to test them out yourselves, feel free! As to the forty men garrisoning this place, I think you'll find them all out of action, thanks to a friend of mine on the inside."

LeMonde's eyes bulged. "You mean, I have a traitor on my staff?" He spat out angrily. He glared in turn at each of his three companions, Edouard stepping quickly away from the door he'd almost reached before his cousin turned to him.

"Hmmm, not exactly." Drakken responded, "You see, he was always on my side, you just took him in, or them, in a manner of speaking. Very useful to me, too, since thanks to him, or them, I now have control of the ten most key installations in this city, as of..." He ostentatiously consulted his watch, "...five minutes ago."

"WHAT!" Le Monde bellowed. All four robots promptly pointed there weapons at him, and he couldn't help an involuntary step back. He didn't know that the real reason was a remote command from Drakken to target whoever he was looking at. "But..that's impossible! All the key installations are guarded by some of our best men!"

Drakken nodded in agreement. "Yes, nice of you to concentrate your best hired men in those places, rather then use them to bolster the troops that remained loyal to you. Made it far easier to deal with them, I assure you!"

"How..." LeMonde broke off at a grunt behind him, as the opening office door hit Edouard in the back as he once again backed towards it. Captain Fan walked in, and walked straight past LeMonde to stand in front of the desk, where he addressed Drakken, "All secure within the building, sir! All armed hostiles disabled and secured!"

"FAN!" LeMonde bellowed, "You're the traitor?" The DmoS muttered "Obviously" behind him, but LeMonde ignored him.

Captain Fan turned to face LeMonde. "Actually, I am Synthodrone CP0016-06, an artificial being, former President LeMonde."

As all four men stared in astonishment, Drakken spoke again. "The oh-six means he's number six in a run of twelve, gentlemen. Only one at a time has been out and about at any given time since their arrival here, but they network marvelously. They also have a built-in ultrasonic device capable of rendering all humans in their vicinity unconscious. Earlier, 'Captain Fan' visited those ten places we discussed, all at the same time! Snap inspection, or a similar excuse. They disabled the garrisons, allowing the rebels to take them each over bloodlessly."

The MoD frowned. "But, Fan has been here six months, or at least, that's how long he's held his position of trust!"

Drakken shrugged. "Well, I've been planning this little venture for nearly a year, after all! As to the Captain...regrettably, he has a limited life span, I truly wish it wasn't so! But, he's an improvement on Eric in that respect, My first synthodrone to try and impersonate a real person. With Fan, a reserved personality allowed me to reduce the size of his program, simplifying it a great deal. His supposed origins in Red China explained a lack of information previous to his arrival, and his obsequious behavior was calculated to appeal to you, Mister LeMonde."

"That's still PRESIDENT LeMonde, as far as I'm concerned!" The man responded angrily, "There are still some several hundred loyal soldiers out there, who will still respond to my orders!"

Drakken didn't seem impressed. "Well, that's doubtful, even if you were in a position to give any orders. In fact, the loyalty of your remaining troops is highly questionable, and probably decreasing by the minute!"

0000000000

"Hello, Is-lee Dra-kone! Sorry to wake you all up, but this is Franky Lerman, your DJ for this morning! I've also been known as Frugal Lucre, but that's in the past! Maybe I shouldn't have mentioned that...oh, well! Anyway, There's going to be a new government running this country when the sun comes up, and I thought a few of you might object, so I'm going to tell you why you shouldn't!" The grating voice was broadcasting on all of the Island's civilian and military frequencies. Drakken had not intended to make Francis Lerman, aka Frugal Lucre, part of his plans, but had to alter his views when he found his former acquaintance and cellmate already on the island, with his mother. The cheap rates the hotels were charging due to the threat of revolution had brought Lerman here, to treat his mother to a little vacation he had often promised her. A chance encounter between the Lermans and 'Professor Kedden' had forced Drakken to take Lucre into his confidence, and the man had then begged to play some part. And now he was.

"Now, a lot of you soldiers out there are here for the money President Lemon-dee is paying you, or _supposed_ to pay you! But you see, he did something naughty. He moved all the Treasury funds off the island, which was kind of illegal, and into a bank, along with his personal fortune, which he banked under an assumed name. Now, I'm not saying that the bank in question knew the whole thing was shady, but they did seem to overlook a few irregularities, so to speak. That is, until an upstanding citizen pointed them out in such a way as to cause a potential scandal."

"Now, when they suddenly 'realized' what was going on, they impounded all that money, until such time as all the legal stuff can be sorted out! Like, who's the legal head of this government, and all! I mean, there's no chance it'll be unfrozen for two, three, maybe six months, the way things are now. So, you boys looking to cash your paychecks? Not going to happen anytime soon! And right now, the old government looks like it's on the way out, so what exactly are you guys fighting for, hmmm?" Another hour of this followed, mostly improvised by Francis Lerman himself. By that time, other news combined with the broadcast to undermine any interest on the part of the mercenaries to fight or take any risks for President LeMonde's government.

0000000000

"So you see, gentlemen, with your funds frozen, only possible because of your relocation of them, _Monsieur _LeMonde, and no advance incentives to hold them here, I expect the bulk of your hired guns to take the offer of safe conduct out through the airport and port, guaranteed through noon today, which the rebels will also honor, if they don't try any looting or other violence against the population during their exit." Drakken finished with a mild flourish, then rose to his feet.

"And now you expect to take over the Isle Drakkon? Do you think that will even be tolerated by the UN, or even CARICOM?" LeMonde commented sarcastically.

Drakken seemed genuinely surprised. "_Moi_? Oh, no, I have no intention of running this country, I just intend to build a home here, safe from extradition and Global Justice. Once I decided to do _that_, I knew there had to be a change in government! I mean, I may have been able to make a deal with you, _Monsieur_ LeMonde, but I honestly don't trust you. And coming from me, well..." He shrugged eloquently, "In any event, we intend to ask Henry Lucas to become President, with Henri Baronne as Chief Justice, or Magistrate, I've forgotten which." He turned a stern look on the DmoS, and the four robots promptly tracked where his eyes looked. "Very evil of you, to send your private hit squad to the jail to murder them. I guess we're lucky Kim Possible was there to spring them, first!"

"And what about Miss Possible?" LeMonde asked, even as he glared at the DmoS, "Do you think she'll let you get away with this scheme of yours?"

"You mean, if your men haven't killed her? Well, for one thing, on who's authority? She may be a free agent, but this is a sovereign nation, she really can't bother me here, any more then Global Justice can!" He shrugged as he turned to return to the desk, "On the other hand, her death during the revolution could cause all kinds of complications, something I'd really like to avoid."

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Kim scanned the sky in the direction here transmitter was approaching from. If she hadn't been, it was unlikely she'd have noticed the approaching craft. Even with the light from the street, it was barely visible as it moved silently to a position directly above her, where it hovered for nearly a minute before descending vertically. By then she had identified it as one of Doctor Drakken's hovercraft. Silent running was one thing he had perfected in these creations early on, even if he could never seem to decide on one control scheme.

And he had apparently been doing some research into stealth techniques, after some time spent trying to make the craft literally invisible, with little success. He had once developed a technique that made non-organic matter invisible, but the drawback to that had become readily apparent when Shego got in to fly the prototype, and found that the one thing that didn't turn invisible was her.. He'd had to avoid her for three days afterwards. And, the method molecularly weakened the material as well, making the technique invalid.

Now, however, he was using more mundane means to make his machines hard to spot. And the one descending towards Kim would have been very hard to spot, if she hadn't known where to look for it. She sat up and pulled her backpack on, then rose to a crouch, ready to act. The hovercraft dropped until it almost touched the rooftop. After a very tense moment, a familiar voice emanated from it, low but easily audible. "For the record, this isn't my idea, Princess, but get aboard before someone spots us and starts shooting, will ya?"

Though half-expecting it to be Shego, Kim hesitated, but then moved swiftly forward and vaulted into the machine. And was struck by a touch of nausea for a moment, a lingering aftereffect of her grenade experience. She regarded the pale thief seated next to her warily, then grabbed hold of her seat as Shego ascended vertically, very rapidly. Once they were three or four hundred feet up, she halted the craft and turned to look at Kim. "What, no Thank You?" She asked sarcastically.

Kim's lips tightened briefly, but then she nodded. "Thank You, Shego. Now, why did you save me, exactly?"

A sardonic smirk on her face, Shego opened her mouth to reply, then closed it, smirk fading. "Truthfully, Kimmie? Because you dying during this little revolution could cause a lot of trouble, that's why! I mean, if we could just blame it on that little hit squad, and prove it was a Government official that ordered your death?" She paused, "Well, in that case, you'd be on your own. Also, the two men who you saved sort of insisted on it, as well, and we kinda need them to be kindly disposed towards the Doc and me. So, that's why, in a nutshell!"

Kim was silent for a moment, trying to decide how to respond. Shego put the craft in motion, westwards. Finally Kim decided to ask, "Are they both all right?"

"Sure, you did a good job of playing decoy Kimmie---oh!" Shego reached into a small compartment and withdrew something. "Here's your little homing thingie. Turn it off and pack it away, no planting it under the seat, Princess!" She added mockingly. Kim made a face, took the device and put it in a belt pouch. "Where are you taking me?"

"The American Consulate, Kimmie, where you're nice and safe from both sides." Shego replied.

Kim scowled suspiciously. "Both sides?"

Shego grimaced. "Yeah, there are always a few people in these things that think anyone who isn't their ally is their enemy. Some people want to stop you from stopping me and Doctor D, no matter what the cost! We've had a talk with some of them, but not all of them are inclined to listen. I mean, I _so_ hope none of them mean you any real harm,of course!" The insincerity in the last sentence drew a derisive snort from Kim, causing Shego to smile wickedly. Then a voice emanating from the craft's radio wiped the smile off her face. "Roseshadow, calling Roseshadow, urgent, please respond!"

Shego grabbed the microphone, slowing the craft so she could concentrate on the call. "Roseshadow here, what's happening?"

"Team sent to collect Barman at hospital reporting failure, he wasn't there. Had to have had help, he was not capable of moving on his own. Want us to order Horseman to start search?"

Shego muttered a curse that made Kim's cheeks turn pink, then thought a moment before answering. "Has Horseman been celebrating since accomplishing his mission?"

"Yes, he has." Came the reply.

"Then no, not a good idea, things are very tense down there, and we want the tension to ease off, not explode, and Horseman is just the spark that can light everything off. Besides, do you know what kind of vehicle to look for? I don't want _anyone, especially _Horseman, conducting a blind search. Maybe we can keep the bastard from getting off the island, but for now, let it go, other things need to be done before daylight, stick to the plan." She waited for an acknowledgment, then hung the mike up again with another curse.

Kim studied the upset thief for a moment before asking, "I would have to guess that referred to Jailer Dumas?"

Shego's scowl deepened. "Yeah, slimy bastard has too many friends, considering his habits. Especially regarding young girls who fall into his hands. Not too young, mind you, but you would have fit the profile Kimmie, you're damn lucky is all I can say. We _so_ wanted to put that bastard on trial when things were set right!"

"Set right?" Kim responded, "Set right by who's standards? Just who is going to be running this island when you're done? You and Drakken?"

Shego snorted. "Thanks for first billing, there, Kimmie! And no, neither one of us is going to get involved in running this place, believe that or not! We're just asking them not to change their status regarding GJ, or their extradition policies. Doctor D wants to build a home here, just to get away from his 'other' life sometimes, and chill."

Kim's skepticism was clear in her eyes. "Riiiight! Just come down here, chill , and plot his next scheme, you mean?"

Shego's expression became serious. "No, no plots, nothing like that! I mean, he really wants to get away from that, sometimes. He won't even be building a lab, or anything like that, here. He insists on building a cottage on the grounds for me, though." She added the last with a touch of wistfulness. "I don't know, Kimmie, he might actually be planning to quit, for real!"

Kim couldn't believe her ears, and stammered out the first question that popped into her head. "B—but, what happens if somebody attacks the island, someone GJ should handle? No, never mind that! I---"

"We'll deal with any attacks, it's part of the deal, Kimmie!" Shego cut her off, then smirked at the girl's astonished look. "What? You don't think me and the Doc can handle any of the other players in our little circus?"

"No! I mean, I guess...who are you making this 'deal' with, anyway?"

"Haven't you guessed? Those two guys you saved tonight, if they take the jobs!" Shego sighed. "The people respect them, with good reason, which is also the reason the whole thing will be a hard sell. But, they will be grateful for us getting rid of LeMonde's governmen, as bloodlessly as possible. And we'll make any promises they consider necessary, within reason. Doc really wants this to work, Kimmie, he's been planning it for nearly a year."

That revelation silenced Kim, as she sat lost in thought until Shego brought the hovercraft down on the grounds of the US Consulate. "Your stop, Princess. Mind your step, and step lively, I have other business before sunrise!"

0000000000

About an hour later, some rebels entered the Presidential residence and collected the weapons of the disabled guards, then took the President and his two companions into custody. Two, because Edouard LeMonde had managed to slip away at some point.

Eventually, Drakken was left alone in the office with Captain Fan. Or rather, two Captain Fans. Sitting behind the desk, he toyed with his little surveillance robot, which he had retrieved from beneath the desk. Eventually he looked up at the two syntho-drones standing at rest in front of the desk. "You know, I do regret that I can't extend your lives further, you've served me so well. And besides, I've grown rather fond of you all. Creation has it's drawbacks, I suppose, when one becomes attached to one's creations, but has to lose them."

"We have no regrets." One of them responded, and the other continued, "As long as our service to you was satisfactory, we are content."

Drakken sighed deeply. "Nevertheless, I think I am through trying to imitate life. The sense of loss....well, no more human analogs, syntho-drone or otherwise!" He stood up as he heard footsteps approaching. Henry Lucas and Henri Baronne walked in, with an escort of a half-dozen armed men. One was George Davout, the titular leader of the resistance, and an old friend of the two men. It was he with whom Drakken had negotiated the terms of his assistance. Though his word did not bind the two men with him, Drakken hoped he would be a good advocate for his cause.

Baronne eyed the villain skeptically. "Doctor Drakken. Do you really intend to withdraw completely, after all you've done, if we don't agree to your plans?"

Drakken didn't hesitate. "I do so intend, _Monsieur_ Baronne! It may sound uncharacteristic of me, but then my public image is mostly based on certain fictional stories. I assure you, this operation was entirely speculative, I will _not_ force any agreement on you in any way. It would defeat my whole purpose, actually, of having a place to go where I'm...well, not feared, to be blunt."

Baronne and Lucas exchanged looks, then the former nodded. "Very well, let's talk. But first, can you get that man on the radio to shut up, he's driving everyone crazy!"

Drakken smiled weakly. _"Every plan has at least one hiccup!" _"Of course, Sir, I'll get right on it!"

0000000000

It was nearly noon as Kim stood beside the US Consu. A relatively young man the night before, he had seemed to be checking for a sudden outbreak of gray hair in any available mirror he passed. They were now outside the Consulate, watching the city return to something approaching normalcy. The Consul was talking, Kim half-listening.

"Right now, it's impossible to get you on a flight out, Miss Possible—Kim, sorry! The airport is jammed with the mercenaries President—or ex-President, LeMonde hired. Even though there is a steady stream of flights coming in and taking off, it'll be a while before they're all gone. The ship rented by Mister Lipsky to take them off from the port has sailed with a full load, as well. And I'm waiting for official word from Washington on whether or not to present my credentials to this Henri Lucas character they're calling President now. Do you think he might be some puppet of Drakken's?"

Kim shrugged. "I don't think so, but you can ask him yourself, here he comes." The Consul looked up in surprise as a Blue Range Rover pulled up, and Kim's erstwhile fellow prisoners emerged, with guards. They still wore their battered clothes from the night before, right down to the sandals. As the Consul studied them critically, and wondered if Kim was joking, they walked up to her, ignoring him for the moment.

"Miss Possible." Henry Baronne bowed slightly as he addressed her. She smiled and returned the bow. "We are so glad we could catch up with you before you left, so we could thank you in person for what you did last night."

Kim decided 'No Big' wasn't appropriate just then. "You're very welcome, Sir. Tell me, are both of you going to assume the offices the people want you to?"

Lucas nodded. "Yes, Miss Possible, we are. Personally, I think Henri would make a better President, but he refuses the job, so I will give it a try."

Kim smiled at them both. "Well, good luck to you both, and your country! But, what about Doctor Drakken?"

Baronne's smile became pained. "Officially, he will only be referred to as Drew Lipsky, here. And yes, we have negotiated a deal with him, regarding his intended residence here."

Kim's face became serious. "Well, I hope you don't come to regret it, Sir."

"And I hope you will grace us with your presence again, Miss Possible!" Henry Lucas responded.

Kim shrugged, smiling. "You never know, I may try and spend some quality time down here some day!"

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This story will continue with Kim's second visit to Isle Drakkon, during the summer before her Senior year.

Please, Read and Review.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Kim Possible, any of the other characters from that show, or those from any other media I may reference in my stories.

The second arc of this story begins here. It takes place the summer following Kim's junior year of High School. Again, what happened in the TV episodes and movies is to be considered a highly fictionalized, if not outright invented, version of events from Ron Stoppable's imagination, written as online fan fiction. In this version of the KP universe, he and Kim are lifelong friends with an unbreakable bond but not romantically involved, though he invented such a relationship, with Kim's reluctant approval, for his stories to please his readers.

* * *

Betty Director didn't visit the GJ training facilities very often, only when she had to re-qualify her rating in one or more necessary skills. This was partly because she had a couple of unpleasant memories from her own early days of training. So when she was observed on the platform overlooking the firing range, it drew comments and speculation from various agents and instructors. She was oblivious to them, though she was aware that her visit was probably the subject of such gossip. Her attention was solely focused on the figure below, going through a firearms safety certification course, and a basic instruction in marksmanship.

The figure was Kim Possible. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail, and Betty could clearly see her frequent, abrupt nods in response to her instructor's questions. Betty would have bet anything that a frown dominated the girl's features throughout the process. She knew Kim didn't like what she was doing, but had to do it in order to qualify for Global Justice support for her activities. She could have put it off until the following summer, since she couldn't be fully sanctioned by GJ until she turned 18, but she had insisted on taking the course now, and getting it out of the way.

Not that she was entirely unfamiliar with guns, she'd actually learned a few basics herself at some point. Betty wondered if Slim had ever given her pointers, and resolved to ask him the next time they managed to get together. Slim was an avid 'Black Powder' enthusiast, especially, and predictably, guns of the Old West. He belonged to and sometimes hosted the events of a particular club of Reenactors at his ranch. In fact, There was a certain gun belt holding a Navy Colt replica that fit Betty's waist perfectly hanging in his gun room, one of the only places on his ranch Joss didn't have access to.

Now Betty watched as Kim stepped away from the bench where her instructor stood, holding one of the modified M4 carbines used on the range for training. Following her instructor's directions, she proceeded to fire twenty rounds from each of three stances, standing, kneeling, and prone. Her instructor observed her closely as she switched magazines between each round of firing, observing how she held the weapon, and handled the switchover. This wasn't a 'combat' session, she was just showing that she was competent in the safe handling of firearms. She'd already completed lessons earlier in the day with handguns.

When her last shot was fired, Kim ejected the spent magazine, made sure the firing chamber was clear, safed the weapon, and handed it to her instructor, acknowledged something he said with a curt nod, then began walking towards the range control building. Betty left her perch to head down and intercept the girl before she left the range. She only just managed it, as Kim seemed to be in a big hurry and was walking briskly, barely short of a trot. She did slow down self-consciously when she spotted Betty, however.

"That wasn't so bad was it, Kim?" The older woman commented as she fell in besides the girl.

"So Not the Drama, Ma'am." Kim responded a bit waspishly, before blushing slightly, "Sorry, maybe it was. No, it wasn't 'bad' bad, it's just....I just don't like the idea of having to use guns, that's all! I mean, not on missions." She looked at Betty's face, to see if the woman understood her point.

Betty nodded. "I do understand, Kim, I really do. But you have to prove your qualifications in many areas for GJ to support you. At least you aced unarmed combat, two of my instructors applied for administrative leave to go improve their own skills, after watching you in action!"

Kim blushed faintly at the compliment. "That was No Big, really! I mean, they probably just didn't recognize my style, is all."

Betty rolled her eye. "No one recognizes your 'style', Kimberly, it's unique to you!" She regarded the girl appraisingly for a moment, before smiling slightly. "In fact, I would wager you couldn't actually teach it to someone else, if only because of how you learned it, taking stances and moves from many styles, adding in your own touches, and coming out with a style all your own. It's so perfect for you, I sometimes wonder how you learned so much in such a short time?"

Kim suddenly seemed uncomfortable. "Can't really explain it myself, actually!" She said, but she studiously avoided eye contact as she did. Betty decided to let it go. However, she felt certain the answer would come out eventually and she didn't want the girl to become wary of her. She started to change the subject, but Kim beat her to it. "Doctor Director, I've been thinking about the possibility of becoming a full-time GJ agent after college, and..."

"You don't think it's a good idea?" Betty finished for her, drawing an astonished look from the girl. Betty smiled reassuringly, though her next words were a bit of a shock. "Neither do I, if you want to know the truth."

Kim's jaw dropped, and she stood stock still for a moment in shock, before stammering, "But..but I...but why? I thought you felt I could be a great agent!"

"You could be, Kim, if you didn't care so much. Like with Ron..." Kim's sudden exclamation cut her off, the girl sounding like her temper was rising.

"Ron? Is this about him not wanting to work for GJ? Are you still convinced that we're only good as a team? Are you..." Betty raised her voice just enough to overcome Kim's own rising tone.

"Kim! Be quiet, and listen!" When Kim subsided, but still appeared to bristle, Betty continued, "What would you do for Ron? Would you sacrifice your life to save his?"

"Of course!" Kim snapped, managing to sound offended by any implication that she wouldn't.

Betty studied her face for a moment, then nodded. "In most people your age, I'd say you didn't fully grasp the implications of what you've said. But in your case, I'm pretty sure the answer would be the same, anywhere from age six to the end of your lives. And I don't doubt you wouldn't do so, either. And there's the problem, you see. All of us have vulnerabilities, but yours is public knowledge, and someone could use Ron to make you do just about anything, couldn't they?"

Kim glowered at her, seeing her reasoning, but stubbornly refusing to concede just yet. "Ron's not that easy to 'use', Ma'am!"

"I'll concede that, but he's not invulnerable, either. And with you, just about any member of your family, any friend, maybe even a total stranger could be used as a lever against you." Betty explained reasonably, "But especially with Ron. And he could also be the target of retaliation by an enemy of yours. Not that that isn't a threat to all of us in this job, but with you, the enemy wouldn't even have to do research to learn how to hurt you the hardest. Now, why are you taking this so hard? Weren't _you_ about to tell me your reasons why you shouldn't become one of my agents?"

Kim had stopped making eye contact halfway through Betty's speech. Now she shuffled her feet while looking at the ground, somewhat embarrassed by her own outburst. "Yes Ma'am, I was. But I guess those reasons aren't important anymore!" She added petulantly.

Betty refrained from expressing her exasperation with difficulty. _"For all she's __accomplished, I have to keep reminding myself she is just a teenage girl!"_ Aloud she said, "Of course they're important, Kim, I just wanted to make my position clear first, in case you were concerned with disappointing me in some way."

Kim's head snapped up, a startled expression on her face. "Oh! I didn't think of it that way, sorry!" she conceded.

"No problem, Kimberly." Betty heard her name called, and stopped as the range boss came trotting up. "I thought you'd want to see your scores before you left, Miss Possible. They're quite excellent!" He handed the papers he carried to Betty, however, and missed Kim's grimace. By the time he turned back to her, a polite smile was on her face. "You'd be a natural for marksmanship training, if it was something you wished to pursue." He added sincerely, and Kim nodded, though the smile on her face became a bit strained. "Now I've got to get back and supervise the ones likely to shoot themselves in the foot, if you'll excuse me."

Betty studied the report in her hands, waiting until the man was out of earshot, and Kim's smile had faded. "These scores actually are excellent, Kim. I suppose it's your 'never do less than your best' attitude that's responsible?"

"I guess." Kim replied quietly, then, "Can we change the subject? I want to talk about something with you before I go meet Ron. We're having a 'going away' party of sorts at Bueno Nacho in Middleton."

Betty looked at her quizzically. "'Going away'? Let's see, Ron's parents take him to Europe every other summer, and they went to France last year, so this summer there shouldn't be a trip?"

Kim shook her head, then smiled, "Not Europe, Camp Wannaweep! Ron's trying to exorcise his childhood demons by volunteering to be a camp counselor this summer. Or at least, for as long as he can last!"

Betty took a moment to absorb that, then gave Kim a stern look. "Do the poor children know what's going to hit them? Does Ron know what he's getting into?" The corners of her lips twitched slightly, "Have all the relevant authorities been warned? If it becomes a battle of wills, there will be blood!" She ended portentously, before she couldn't hide her grin any longer. Kim smiled back, while rolling her eyes.

"Ron will be fine, trust me! Now, can we talk about Drakken?" Both smiles vanished instantly. Betty began to walk again towards the entrance to the base. Her primary headquarters was located on a US Military Reservation in Kansas. The US Government, while supporting GJ, preferred to keep an eye on them. And having GJ help pay to keep the installation open was a bonus, too. Plus, if GJ folded, or otherwise relocated, the US Army would inherit a lovely underground base in the bargain.

Betty spoke in a professional, unbiased tone, "Drakken has been behaving himself since the revolution on Isle Drakkon, Kim. Or at least that we can prove! We list Shego as the top suspect for some thefts over the past few months, but she's left no incriminating evidence behind, _if_ it was her. Basically, except for his attempt to steal Dementor's Quantum Synchronizer, for the third time, and another try at the Pan Dimensional Vortex Inducer, which was a full three months ago, there's nothing we can directly tie to him."

"What about the island itself, how are things down there? Is there any sign that he's actually running the government, or using mind control, anything?" Kim asked this all in a rush.

Betty favored her with another stern look, but this one was serious, and Kim flushed pink. "Based on State Department reports, no sign at all. So far, everything happening since the revolution has been an improvement for the citizens down there. Several public buildings have been replaced with more modern structures, including the main hospital and the jail. Once the Government funds were unfrozen, they were applied entirely for the benefit of the people, as near as we can tell. Of course, I'm not allowed to mount an investigation on Isle Drakkon, but I have had a few agents go there for vacations."

Kim perked up a bit at that. "And what happened? Did they see anything odd?"

Betty smiled wryly. "What happened is they all received a fruit basket with a card signed by Drakken himself, always on their first day on the island. And after that, no, no signs of anything 'odd'."

Kim blinked, then scowled. "So he knows when your people are there, so even if he's doing something crooked, he doesn't _while_ they're there?"

Betty sighed in exasperation. "_If_ he's doing anything illegal, possibly! But his stated intention for building a residence down there was to have a place to 'get away' from his 'business'! Or career, however you classify it. The house he built is reasonable for a single occupant, with a servant or two. I mean, the 'cottage' he built for Shego on the land he purchased is nearly as big as the main house! And there's no sign of a laboratory on the property, or any research or manufacturing facilities."

"But he had Henchco build the house, anything could be hidden there!" Kim argued hotly. Another stern look made her subside briefly, before Betty answered her.

"Henchco's construction subsidiary built it, yes! But, in order to keep the company legitimate, Jack Hench has them bid on and work on legitimate projects all the time. In fact, they got the contract for a new Federal holding facility, because of a low bid and an idiot of a congressman! Going to have to keep an extra eye on that place when it's done." Betty shook her head, "Though he's just likely to have it built escape proof, so he can advertise the fact! In any event, the construction materials shipped to Isle Drakkon to build Drakken's home were normal, nothing odd at all. And Henchco employed nearly forty locals on the job, training them so they could help with the rebuilding or renovation of the public buildings I mentioned."

Kim received that news with mixed feelings. On the one hand, she appreciated the value of the training for the locals. On the other, it didn't satisfy her need for something to validate her feelings that Drakken and Shego were up to no good. That they were _always_ up to no good. She hadn't always felt that way about her foes, and admitted to herself that her change of attitude might be because she was certain, and GJ agreed with her, that the pair had become more successful at hiding their involvement in crimes they committed. In a way, Kim yearned for the days when Drakken couldn't be bothered with subtlety, the 'Days of Rants and Poses' as Ron had called them recently, though he offered the alternate 'Days of Whine and Poses'.

Now she sighed in resignation. "So, no signs that he's up to no good." she muttered, "But he does somehow know when you send agents down there? Why would he bother, if he's behaving himself?" Before Betty could respond, Kim flapped one hand dismissively, "Because it's an ego thing, right? Or, is he scared that someone might be there for more sinister purpose?"

Betty was a bit taken aback by that question, and frowned. It brought certain possibilities to mind, though she doubted they were the same ones Kim was considering. "Drakken may or may not be responsible for the island's government rejecting some 'development' plans by certain parties looking for opportunities exploiting a new and supposedly shaky government. Though Henry Lucas doesn't seem to be any body's fool."

Kim smiled slightly and shook her head. "Didn't seem that way to me, though I didn't see much of him." She looked questioningly at Doctor Director. "So, are you saying private interests might have it in for Drakken, or some Governments?" There was an unspoken qualification to the latter suggestion, if Betty estimated Kim's intelligence accurately.

"Could be either." She chose to answer noncommittally. Kim gave her a suspicious look, but Betty kept her face blank. "I don't have any reliable information, Kimberly, that's all."_ "That you're cleared for, that is."_ The girl finally nodded. Then she rubbed her right shoulder a bit, frowning. "I wish you'd have let me take the test virtually, Doctor Director. I mean, some agencies accept that kind of test."

"True, but not all do. Besides, our limited VR facilities are booked two months in advance, except for time reserved for possible special briefings. And you wanted to 'get this over with', Kim." She responded reasonably.

Kim rolled her eyes and nodded. "Yeah I did, didn't I?" They had reached the entrance ramp for the underground GJ facility, where they would part ways. A tilt-engine GJ transport was rising out of the ground about one hundred feet away, raised on an elevator from the base's hangar. "That's my flight!" Kim announced. Unnecessarily, but cheerfully. "Thanks for letting me hitch from Middleton, Doctor Director!"

Betty smiled fondly at the girl. "What else was I going to do? Wait until you have a car of your own? Flight was scheduled, anyway, and had the room, both ways. Now get going, before you hold it up, and the pilot begins to fear my terrible wrath!" That caused another eye-roll, before the girl started trotting towards the plane, then broke into a full-out run, vaulting in through the ship's hatch gracefully at the end.

Betty sighed as the hatch closed and the aircraft lifted off. _"I was never like that when I was young, was I? With Sheldon, and...other problems. She can shift so effortlessly back and forth from teenage girl to almost a mature adult, sometimes!" _Then she scowled, _"She's becoming almost obsessed with Drakken lately, or ever since the revolution on Isle Drakkon, anyway. And I'm not sure her reasons are sound, or mature. I wish I had a way to keep an eye on her, something tells me...'to keep an eye on her', doh!" _She suddenly became aware of one of her agents staring at her in concern. She returned a sharp look. "Just wool-gathering, Simmons, nothing to worry about!" She snapped brusquely, then started down the ramp without waiting for a reply.

000000000

Shego tried to convince herself that normally she wouldn't have been caught dead attending a Henchco 'Ladies Day' event. She might have lied to herself that listening to the gossip was actually intelligence gathering, and checking out the fashions was purely to keep up on what her opponents might be wearing, but in truth she was almost as susceptible to the temptation to gossip as anyone, and style was important to her. Not that she'd buy any of Henchco's products with the concealed weaponry and surveillance gear. She had her own combat gear custom-made, and for everyday clothes she had other preferred venues for expanding her wardrobe.

She was certainly stylishly dressed at the moment, in a blue and black ensemble of loose slacks, blouse and vest. Her long hair was in a ponytail, with two silver hair bands holding it in place. Ron Stoppable had become slightly obsessed with Shego's long, flowing hair, and liked to portray her as leaving it unbound and free all the time, which she definitely did not do. Too many accidents were possible when maneuvering in tight spaces, never mind what could happen in combat with it flying around unbound. A long ponytail had it's own disadvantages, but she'd taken steps to counter that. And apparently, someone had taken notice.

A spokeswoman was standing on a small circular platform, along with an apprehensive looking man. On a stand in front of her was a hairpiece of fine blond hair, held at one end by a metallic clamp to simulate how the braid would be attached to a female skull, under normal circumstances. Two bands, a bright copper in color, held the hair in a simulated ponytail like Shego's, though much shorter.

"Now, Ladies, we will demonstrate something useful to those of you who prefer to wear your hair long, though it may sometimes be a disadvantage in certain hectic situations." the spokeswoman smiled brightly as she talked, with barely a twitch when her gaze fell on two ladies with shaved heads who stood together, scowling back at her. "For instance, if some opponent of yours tries to gain an advantage by pulling on your hair!" She turned to the man and gestured at the fake ponytail. He cringed slightly, but didn't move, and the smile left her eyes. She gestured more emphatically, and her lips moved slightly as if she was whispering to him.

Cringing a little more, he reached out and took hold of the free end of the hair, closed his eyes, and pulled it taut. He promptly spasmed, released his grip, and collapsed to the floor in a twitching heap. The spokeswoman turned back to her audience. "As you see, that wasn't a very smart move, was it?" She smiled brightly. "Now, the secret to this handy defense system I can't share with you here, but if you're interested, we will be offering a more comprehensive demonstration in Room 4 at 2:30. I hope to see you all there." She turned and made a gesture to two men nearby, who quickly and efficiently removed her stooge from sight.

"They alternate." Shego turned to find a small woman with close-cropped blond hair and bright blue eyes next to her. "That's his third shock today, the other guy's gone down twice, and probably has to repeat that stunt at least once more before the main demo."

Shego arched one eyebrow. "Why are you interested?" She asked, looking at the woman's own hairstyle, "Hardly a likely customer, are you?"

The woman smirked. "Nah, but watching the demos is entertaining. You ought to see the one for the 'porcupine bra' over that way." She gestured towards another part of the show floor. Then she studied Shego's hair. "What about you? They'd seem a better 'fit' for you."

Shego's smirk was a bit grimmer then the other woman's. "Oh, they are! In fact, I've been wearing them for two years, now!" She turned slightly to give the woman a better look at her own adornments. "Mind you, mine are handmade."

"Oh, really?" The spokeswoman had apparently overheard the conversation. "You know, of course, that there is such a thing as patent infringement?" She asked Shego in a supercilious tone.

A predatory grin spread on Shego's face. "Why yes, there certainly is! And since _I_ patented these nearly...let me see...twenty months ago, that makes you, or rather Jack, the infringer, doesn't it?"

The woman's face shifted to shock, and she blinked rapidly for a moment before regaining her composure and replying, "Well, that's...a matter for our legal department, isn't it?" Then she spun on her heel and walked stiffly away, as if expecting a plasma blast or something similarly nasty to strike her in the back.

The blond chuckled in amusement. "Good one!" She complimented Shego, then held her hand out, "Call me Nonnie, short for anonymous. No point in hiding the fact I'm not here under my real name, is there? And yes, I know who you are, NIN."

Shego stared at her suspiciously for a moment. "No Introductions Necessary? You kind of remind me of someone, but not much." The blond looked back in puzzlement for a second before they both jumped at the sound of a loud detonation from nearby, followed by a loud voice proclaiming "Nothing to worry about, Ladies, just an accident, he's fine!" A reassurance belied by the medical team rushing past the women.

"Did you really file a patent?" Nonnie inquired as they strolled in the opposite direction from the disturbance. They both showed little interest in the 'costumed villainess' section, but items in the section for the 'practical' dress section attracted them both. Shego shrugged. "Meh, Doctor D made the first pair for me, and filed a patent. Not entirely sure what _country_ he filed in, but he did file. Nice camo pattern on this jumpsuit, a 'digital' pattern I see."

"Thought you were more into the skin-tight outfits? Hmmm, don't get these boots, the manufacturer has shoddy quality standards, wore two pair out myself way too easily!" A sales rep lurking nearby caught that, and began to whisper into his radio, while checking a pair of the boots herself, looking for the label.

Shego smirked slightly and shook her head. "The skin-tight stuff? Wore that to get attention early in my career, and to rebel against that outfit I had to wear when I was on Team Go. You want to talk about shoddy workmanship! Mind you, the first time one ripped in public, it raised one hell of a stink! They ended up reinforcing it so much I nearly passed out on a couple of hot days!" Nonnie steered into the weapons section, and straight to firearms, and Shego followed. The pale thief studied the displays with some interest, since she was highly proficient with some types of guns, and even carried one on some of her jobs.

This was mainly because she found that no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't generate a plasma blast and hit a target as fast as she could draw a pistol and score. And sometimes, speed was the only thing that saved her. She'd even had one a couple of times when she crossed Kim Possible's path, but it never came up in Ron Stoppable's stories. Then again, she had never drawn it on those occasions. Sometimes she wondered why, when one bullet might have solved one of her biggest headaches so easily. Back then, Doctor Drakken wouldn't have been too annoyed by such an act. But these days were different, he was more mature, and much less bloodthirsty. But that didn't answer the question: Why hadn't she ever just drawn her gun and plugged Possible? She'd blasted her with plasma, or tried to, but always the quick blasts, and those weren't all that dangerous in and of themselves.

Nonnie was studying a slick, compact handgun with interest. "Have to replace my old gun. My business partners wonder why I only carry one, and a small one at that, but it's just not one of my primary tools." Something caught her eye at a nearby display. "Don't look now, there's Adrena Lynn. And watch what you say around her."

Shego grimaced in disgust. "She's here? Again? How does she get past Jack's security?" Shego looked where Nonnie pointed, and studied the figure indicated. After almost a minute, she nodded. "Heh, not a bad disguise. She might have fooled me...in a dark alley! But why be careful around her, she's still not planning an 'expose' of villainous activities to try and get herself back in the publics good graces? 'The whole villain shtick was only a means to infiltrate the underworld!', that lame plan?"

Nonnie snorted. "Truthfully, I think Jack lets her in, just so he can 'expose' her, using some new product he's shilling! I heard her on her cell, earlier. She was talking to Kim Possible's nerd support. From what I could hear, he's got something on her, and wants her to give him something good on one of us bad guys to let her off the hook!"

Shego's eyebrows rose, but she kept her eyes on Lynn, who's disguise was mainly just a long black wig and baggy clothes. "Nerdlinger using blackmail? Hmmm...but I bet whatever it is isn't criminal, Kimmie would never allow him to let someone skate on a real rap, just for a tip. Must be something personally embarrassing he found out!"

Nonnie nodded agreement. "Most likely! Oh, boy! Take a look over there, BarberRosa, showing off the bod again!" A tall, almost unbelievably well-built blond in minimal black leather was sitting on an empty display table, holding a giant folding straight razor, the blade of which was nearly three feet long. She was talking animatedly with several men gathered around her. "She's one of your hometown villains, isn't she?"

Shego snorted in derision. "Villain? Her? She's just someone cashing in on a little notoriety, that's all! Charges her clients more for a shave and a haircut then some call girls make, based on the 'thrill' of having it done by a wanted felon! When Team Go caught her after her 'crime spree', the courts couldn't give her more then six months, that's how lame her criminal career was. Mind you, she 'escaped' from the Team more then once due to her distracting effect on the boys!"

"But not you, huh? She ever try swinging that big blade at you?" Nonnie asked, grinning.

Shego responded with an 'Oh please' look. "She still has her head on her shoulders, doesn't she? She got that blade from Jack, maybe a year ago, I'm not even sure it's sharp enough to cut butter."

"Nice tan, though!" Nonnie observed, "Think she has a tropical paradise to go to and work on it, like you do?"

Shego was suddenly wary, but hid it well. Anyone interested in Ilse Drakkon had that effect on her lately, due to Kim Possible's obsessive interest in the subject. "As you can see, tanning isn't one of my preoccupations." She indicated her pale skin. "But you're right, paradise about covers it, just have to resist the temptation to spend too much time down there, and get soft."

Nonnie nodded in comprehension. "I heard somewhere that Kim Possible was down there, but not only didn't mess up your plan, but she helped you out?"

Any good mood remaining to Shego vanished in an instant. "She didn't help us at all! Not intentionally, anyway! She just did her goody-two-shoes act, and _maybe _solved a problem of ours! But now she's obsessed with the idea that we're using the island as a base for Doc's schemes and plots! She's had her nerd monitoring everything that he possibly can down there, looking for something for her to act on! Speaking of which, I really need to get back there, Doc's expecting an important visitor..." Her voice suddenly trailed off, her brow knitting in concentration.

Nonnie regarded her curiously. "Something wrong?"

A smile began to slowly spread across Shego's face. "Not at all! Actually, I may have thought of a way to get the Princess grounded for a while!"

"Princess? Which Princess?" Nonnie was obviously confused.

Shego began to look around the room frantically. "Never mind! Where's Lynn, I need to get to her before Jack throws her out!" _"And if I get Kimmie to make a real fool of herself, someone else will get her out of our hair!"_

Nonnie looked around. "Eh, lost her, maybe she went in one of the demonstration rooms?" Then she raised up on tiptoe, "Wait, there she is, and look what she's perusing! Surveillance gear!"

"That figures!" Shego grumbled as she began to work her way towards the disguised thrill junkie. "Wait! I thought Jack didn't display that stuff anymore, since that GJ Agent, Core something, managed to activate some at a show, and got a load of dirt on the attendees?"

"Brenda Core." Nonnie responded, "And yeah, Hench did take it off for the last few shows, but it's such a lucrative line, he couldn't abandon it altogether. Let's see if we can tell how he's neutralized it."

Shego smirked evilly and shook her head. "Nah, I have something more interesting, I need to pull something on Lynn, you willing to help me?"

Nonnie looked at her searchingly for a moment, then shrugged. "Sure, but not much of an actress, hope you're not depending on that from me."

Shego chewed her lip for a moment, studying Lynn, then shook her head. "Should be able to pull it off myself, just need someone to talk to, so she doesn't get suspicious." She subtly gestured for Nonnie to follow her and slipped through the throng until they were close to Lynn. Shego hesitated to start her spiel as she had to avoid a model in what looked like some kind of dominatrix outfit, walking past with a tray loaded with brochures. "You wouldn't catch me dead in an outfit like that, I don't care how successful you-know-who is with that look!" Shego muttered to Nonnie, who smirked and nodded in agreement.

Shego made sure Lynn had her back turned before starting to speak, and noted with satisfaction the sudden stiffening of said back when the thrill junkie recognized Shego's voice. "I'm not really looking forward to this meeting Doctor D is holding this Saturday, associating with the kind of people he's invited is an invitation to trouble, If you ask me. _And, _I have to go back and supervise security for the whole mess, when I'd rather be headed to Greece for a little 'tune-up', if you get my drift."

Nonnie nodded, and replied, "I got ya. Expecting Global Justice to cause problems over this meeting?"

The corners of Shego's lips twitched slightly, but she kept her voice serious as she replied. "GJ can't do a thing on Isle Drakkon! They can't even sneak anyone onto the island without me and the Doc knowing about it, so they're no threat, believe me!"

"Well, that leaves one other problem, doesn't it? A certain red-haired problem?" Nonnie observed.

Shego wondered for a moment if that had been a bit obvious, but there was nothing to be done about it now. She shook her head. "Not likely! Not putting any info on this meeting anywhere where her tech nerd can find it. Besides, this is just a meeting, what can she do? People are allowed to get together and talk, aren't they?" Shego wasn't sure what prompted her to say that, since it might actually work against her plan, if her exact words were relayed to Kim.

"Of course! But talk about what, is the question. And, I'm sure she'd like to know who attends the meeting, right?" Shego almost kissed the small blond as she gave the thief an opportunity to tweak Kim's ego into making her come.

"Oh, Please! Possible's a kick-in-the-door type, not an 'intelligence gathering' type! She waits for Nerdlinger or GJ to point her in the right direction, and let slip her leash." This was the first time Shego raised her voice above a low tone. A couple of other attendees shot her curious looks, which she used as an excuse to end things. "Guess we'd better not discuss this here, I guess I get a bit agitated when the subject of the cheerleader comes up. Come on, let's look at the explosives display, people always get nervous when I get near that when I'm in a bad mood!"

As they strolled away, Shego kept surreptitiously peeking back at Lynn. The disguised woman remained where she was, pretending to still be browsing the surveillance equipment, until she was almost lost to Shego's sight in the throng. But then she suddenly began to move hastily towards the Rest Rooms. _"Bait about to be delivered!" _The thief thought with a smirk.

"By the way, how do you know that Kim Possible has been 'obsessing' over you and Doctor Drakken on Isle Drakkon?" Nonnie asked her as they arrived at the explosive devices display. And the vendor behind the table _did _seem to become slightly apprehensive at Shego's proximity. He scanned her face intently, trying to divine her mood.

Shego noticed this, but ignored the man as she responded, "Well, when the crew Jack Hench sent down to build Doctor D's house returned to the US, they happened to have an encounter with a young woman, with long blond hair, who after a bunch of smalltalk, directed the conversation to their island visit. All 'oo's', and 'ah's' about the 'tropical paradise', but eventually the conversation shifted to the actual work that had been done. Well, some of them got suspicious, and got a picture of her face. A little work with facial recognition software, and guess who it turned out to be?"

Nonnie smirked but didn't answer as they moved away from the explosives table towards an area displaying lingerie. "What do you suppose she's got hidden in something that skimpy?" She wondered aloud, indicating one model who was standing next to a space heater for a good reason.

Shego glanced at the model. "Hmmm? Oh, nothing. Jack's current Missus designs and markets lingerie, that's the real stuff, and that little black nothing right there is _mine_, got it? Anyway, another reason I know Kimmie's interested is the fact I was able to trace a hack on some of our files back to her tech guru, Wade Load. For the very first time ever! He's been careless with some of his snooping around about Isle Drakkon, which I interpret as his trying to satisfy a very impatient teenage heroine. Normally, I never know when he's around. Lately, too many signs, and always around files and info relating to Isle Drakkon."

"I get it, she's really pushing him, making him more eager to please her then to hide his tracks." Nonnie grinned up at the taller woman, "And you can keep the 'little black nothing', 'cause I'm taking this green one!"

Shego gaped, an outraged look appearing on her face. "HEY! No fair, I couldn't see that one behind the model!"

00000000000

"You're missing your boy already, aren't you?" Kim's concentration didn't slip at the unexpected voice speaking behind her. She went straight into the sequence her mind had mapped out, and in five seconds three boards were lying on the ground, split in twain. Or, one half of each board was on the ground, the other halves still swinging from the ropes from which the whole items had been hanging. Kim wiggled one foot, rubbed the palm of one hand, and studied the side of the other briefly before turning to regard her best female friend, watching with both arms crossed over her chest.

Kim took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. "So not! I can get along just fine without Ron for a few weeks, it's No Big!" She stood there with a look of resolve on her face for about ten seconds, then shrugged with a wry smile. "Of course I am, how could you tell?" Kim gestured at the twenty or so broken boards lying in a pile next to the rear fence of the Possibles' backyard. "Do I look like I've been trying too hard to keep myself occupied?" She added with a grin. She then walked over to a rope hanging from a particularly tall tree and began shimmying up it.

Monique strolled over to lean against the trunk of the tree. "Oh, no, I'm sure this is your normal routine, girlfriend. I mean, I've seen you go up and down this rope six times in the last hour, it's _so_ obvious that you're slacking off!" At the top of the rope, the lithe redhead smiled down in response to her friend's thinly veiled sarcasm, but didn't reply. Instead she began her descent, coming down to a point about eight feet from the ground, then flipping herself inverted.

"Slacking off, you say?" She smirked at Monique, then twisted the rope around her left leg. Clenching it, she then let go of the rope with her left hand, sticking that arm out one way, while scissoring her right leg out in the opposite direction. She then began rotating in place. Monique responded with polite applause. "Very nice! When did you learn the circus routine? Oh, wait, didn't Ron have something in one of his stories about you filling in for a circus act?"

Kim didn't answer until she had recovered and dropped to the ground. "He did, but I didn't." She sighed, "I had the dream once upon a time, though. And I did learn the routines, just as a challenge. Ron decided it was a shame I never put them to real use, so he put them in his story. Believe it or not, there was a GJ mission I might have been up for, involving the circus, but they scratched me off when they found out the target had a thing for teenage girls."

Monique made a face. "At least they found out before putting you in a jail bait situation! But, seriously, you're very restless, even for you, is it because Ron is gone?"

Kim reached underneath her top to make adjustments to her sports bra as she considered her answer. "New bra, usual problems. And yes, partially. It's getting so that I can't relax without Ron around, for some reason! I mean, I only do leisure activities with him, the kind where you just mellow out, you know?"

Monique's brow furrowed in consternation. "Excuse me? Do we not go shopping together at least once a week?"

Kim rolled her eyes, while examining the palm of her right hand while flexing her fingers. "Mon, I love you like a sister, so I'll be perfectly honest. Shopping with you is _never_ relaxing! You've said it yourself, clothes bring out the animal in you!"

Monique pursed her lips in a disapproving pout for a moment. Then her lips twitched, and started to spread into a grin. "Yeah, My main adrenaline enhancer is usually in a display window, isn't it? But it's not like I had to talk to a cop about my behavior at a sale, like some people I know." She finished with a sly grin.

Kim's eyes widened. "Ohhh, you are _so_ not going there! You _know_ if it had been anyone but Bonnie trying to beat me to that blouse, I'd never have acted that way!" She sputtered in outraged protest.

Monique just grinned wider. "Sure, girlfriend, sure. Your Type A personality would never rouse itself if a strange girl was about to get the last available example of a blouse you'd been lusting over, and saving up for, for three weeks?"

Kim glowered at her briefly, then shrugged and began collecting the broken board halves. Monique lost her grin. "Your sense of humor hasn't been normal lately either, Kim. Usually you don't mind laughing at yourself. After grumbling for five or six minutes first, I'll admit."

Kim paused in her work, then dropped all the pieces she'd collected on the ground and threw her hands up in the air. "You're right! I don't know what's wrong with me! I aced junior year, haven't had a mission go sour in months, and I'm seriously considering getting off the sidelines and back into active athletic competition next year, though not sure in what sport, and basically everything is going fine! But I'm sure not acting like it!" She leaned against the tree and looked at Monique. "Sorry about all this, Mon." She added apologetically.

Monique shook her head in denial. "No worries, girlfriend, it's not like you've become antisocial, just different, that's all." She looked away as she shrugged, "And I've been a little worried, that's all. Ron seemed to keep you laughing, though not always for the right reasons, mind you."

Kim snorted, but the following grin faded almost immediately. "Yep, Ron's good for my morale, but I usually manage better then this without him. Haven't take a separation from him like this since I was...eight I think."

Further conversation was interrupted by the familiar four notes of the Kimmunicator, coming from an old stump on which Kim had laid it while she worked out. Kim scooped it up, then took a moment to smooth her hair down before activating it. "What up, Wade?" She greeted her webmaster with a grin.

"Hey Kim!" Wade greeted her cheerfully, "I may just have something concerning Drakken and Isle Drakkon for you! Though I'm not sure how you'll want to handle it..." He trailed off cautiously, having noticed a certain gleam in Kim's eyes. Monique noticed it too, and listened intently to Kim's tone of voice as she replied, "Just give me what ya got, Wade, and let me decide, Please and Thank You!" Monique's eyes narrowed slightly. _"Definitely in better spirits. Wonder if it's the possibility of a mission in general, or specifically one on that island?"_

"Okay, Kim. I have a transcript of a conversation between Shego and another pro thief at a Henchco get together, see if it's worth checking out!" Wade typed a command into his keyboard, and text filled the Kimmunicator's screen.

"Transcript?" Kim remarked with a puzzled frown, "Why a transcript, Wade?"

Wade looked slightly uncomfortable. "Uh, there was no chance of recording the talk, but my source recited the whole thing verbatim from memory. And before you ask, I do trust the source to have gotten it right."

Kim scowled suspiciously, but that faded quickly as she scrolled through the conversation. She bristled at Shego's referring to her as a 'kick-in-the-door' type. She went back and read it all again before asking Wade, "Any idea who this could be dropping in on Drakken?"

The text vanished to show Wade shaking his head. "None, Kim! All Drakken's known associates, as few as there are, are accounted for. And Shego's reference to them as 'trouble' worries me, to be honest! What kind of person who Drakken might meet would she consider trouble?"

Kim thought for a moment, then shook her head. "No idea, Wade. But it's definitely a good idea to find out!" she stated firmly.

"Want me to pass it on to GJ?" Wade asked, a hint of hope in his voice.

Kim shook her head emphatically. "No, they can't get anyone on Isle Drakkon, even if they acted on this! Doctor Director pretty much confirmed what Shego said when I saw her last. No, I'm going to handle this one on my own."

Wade frowned slightly. "What about Ron?"

Kim winced, then again shook her head. "He probably hasn't even reached Camp Wannaweep yet! Not going to pull him out just to go snoop around down there! No, I'll go, and see if there's anything worth the trip!"

Wade nodded. "Gotcha! One ride to Isle Drakkon, coming up!" But before he could type a full word in, Kim interrupted.

"No, Wade." She paused, "Not to Isle Drakkon itself. Drakken would know the minute I landed there. So, find me someone who'll drop me off on a beach somewhere on the island, 'kay?"

Wade didn't move for a moment, a frown forming on his face. "Kim, that's illegal entry, and you're not covered by GJ for Isle Drakkon! You'll be breaking the law if you go that way!"

Kim chewed her lip for a moment, brow furrowed, but then she spoke decisively. "I have to surprise Drakken, that's obvious! And this is the only way, as far as I can tell. Besides, I should be okay, since I saved the current President's life!" That only made Wade's frown deepen. Kim asking for a consideration, for saving someone's life? But the determined set to her jaw told him that dissuading her would be near impossible. Unless he enlisted Ron or one of her parents, but that would be a form of betrayal. Besides, she was just doing a little reconnaissance, right? "Okay Kim, I'm on it! Get back to you when it's set up. But, it's only Wednesday, how soon do you want to get there? The meeting is supposedly on Saturday."

Kim nodded. "Depends on the ride, Wade, see what you can set up. As long as they can put me ashore in time to watch Drakken's house from Saturday morning on."

Wade nodded. "Got you, Kim! Be back when I have all the arrangements made." And the screen went blank.

Monique regarded Kim warily. "Are you sure about this? I mean, entering a country this way?"

"Yup!" Kim nodded, "I'll have my passport, and I'll tell them the truth, that I was dropped off by a friend. And that I hiked across the island to deal with the formalities, that's all!" Her decisive tone and the firm set of her jaw told Monique that only a major disaster was going to deter Kim. _"I have a very bad feeling about this!" _She thought.

* * *

Are Monique's instincts right? Well, it would be a dull story if they weren't, wouldn't it?

Please Read and Review.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Kim Possible, any of the other characters from that show, or those from any other media I may reference in my stories.

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It was at the surf line that Kim really stopped to consider her motives. Too late to swim back out to the floating party that had constituted her 'ride', she quickly thought. It was now just a glimmer of lights and faint music receding in the distance. "_But not too late to just walk to that village a mile up the coast, and greet the Customs officer stationed there at dawn with my smiling face, my passport...and my mission gear!" _was her own mental response.

She looked around the moonlit beach, then at the trees ahead of her, and found herself remembering her last conversation with Wade, which took place while she was trying to avoid some of the other overenthusiastic teenage party-goers on the boat. Her borrowed bathing suit had been no help in avoiding attention. _"Sorry, Kim, it's the only one we brought even close to your size." _Had been the excuse offered her. The main problem was, Kim felt like she could have crammed the whole thing into the cover for a tube of lipstick.

"_Wade, am I the only person who believes that Drakken is doing more on that island then building sand castles and taking long strolls on the beach?"_

"_Kim, I'd hardly call perfect scale reproductions of Neuschwanstein and Plassenberg Castles, and the Alcazar in Segovia mere 'sand castles'! And as to 'believes'? Yes. Suspect, no. Doctor Director has her suspicions, and so do others, but I think you're the only one who's _convinced_ he's up to no good."_

Those words came back to annoy her as she stood with the surf working around her toes. Stopping on the open beach at all told her she wasn't in mission mode. She could have used the excuse that her trip to shore had tired her, but she knew better. Fatigue or not, by now she should have pulled her board and the waterproof container holding her clothes and mission gear into the trees. Now she shook her head at her own hesitation and did just that.

Once in cover, she stripped off her nylon wetsuit and the bikini underneath, then rummaged in the container for her clothes. If she could have afforded a fire, she almost felt like ritually burning the skimpy suit. She sorted out her underwear, and then uncharacteristically let her mind wander again. Monique had had a few things to say when she decided to accompany Kim to the airport. Once Kim had rejected another suggestion that she call Ron and take him along, Mon had called Kim's motives into question.

"_Are you sure your reasons for thinking Drakken's doing evil down there isn't because of fear, Kim?" She grinned slightly at the confused look on Kim's face. __"Fear of change, Girlfriend! Senior year coming up, all that implies, and now your villains aren't following the script? Maybe that's what's bothering you. Maybe you're afraid they're all going to stop being villainy and you might have to stop __being a hero?"_

Kim had only shook her head, and not without cause. She wasn't a hero just to be a hero, she wanted to help people. And fighting supervillains wasn't the only way she did that. On the other hand, was she acting like this because she couldn't accept a change on the part of her foes? Suddenly feeling somehow chilly in spite of the tropical night, Kim belatedly got dressed. Concealing her board and the container, she pulled out her Kimmunicator and called up it's Navigation menu. It verified that she'd been dropped off exactly where she had wanted, so she set off along the edge of the beach.

It was two and a half miles to Drakken's home, but she allocated herself some time to catch some sleep before morning. She had had no chance of that on the trip. The 'ride' had been a boat rented for a television reality show, with nine teenagers(well, 18 and 19 year olds) crammed aboard for a sixty day trip through the Caribbean. If they lasted _that_ long. There had also been six people from the production crew, plus the boat's normal crew of four.

Kim had boarded only that morning, after negotiating with the on site producer when and how she would appear on camera. The swimsuit bit had been a major cave-in for her, and she was still vexed more about accepting it then actually doing it. The price for doing it would come due in two months, when the show began to air on TV, and her friends and family saw it.

As it was, Kim had used all of her restraint not to provide the cameras with some truly dramatic moments, such as flinging one guy overboard, and violently altering the vocal register of a second. She held back because she sensed the second guy was playing a role as an obnoxious ass, rather then truly being one. She'd been hit on by two guys and one of the girls, and considering how they'd been dressed, there was no way that whatever footage of the last encounter was aired wasn't going to be a popular download from the channel's website. She didn't know if they knew she was still underage or not, serious, or putting on a show. She did know she might have given Bonnie a lesson in the art of the cold put-down at one point, despite trying her best to stay level-headed and cheerful, as the producer had requested. Oddly, though, the woman hadn't complained, and saw Kim over the side with regrets. And no camera crew recording her departure, as per their agreement.

Now she walked along the fringe of the trees, using the light of the waxing moon alone to scan ahead for any signs of a local out on the beach on their own business. Available satellite images hadn't been detailed enough to show any single dwellings in the area she intended to cover, so she proceeded cautiously. She was on the west side of the island, so she'd have the cover of darkness or shadows for some time past dawn.

As she proceeded, Kim began to see signs of the damage wrought by hurricanes on the island's shore. Though she couldn't tell if any was recent in the dark, she remembered that such a storm had recently 'sideswiped' Isle Drakkon. She wondered briefly how much actual damage had been done, and how the people were coping, before returning her concentration to navigating her way to Drakken's home.

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Shego hated waking up suddenly, and not knowing what was responsible. She lay still for a minute, listening intently. The last scene from her dream was still in her head, where a smiling Midas emerging from the sea was replaced by a smirking Lothario who was the last man Shego ever wanted to see again. _"Wonder if that means anything? My hot dreams usually don't go sour like that. And I haven't seen that jerk in two years, why would his face come back to me now?"_

Again refocusing on her hearing, Shego heard nothing odd at all. She rolled quietly out of bed and stood up, adjusting the waistband of the shorts she was wearing, along with an old T-shirt. The waistband's elastic was giving out, but she was loath to toss anything she slept well in away. Senses still alert, Shego moved to her bedroom window and looked out at the quiet beach beyond. She saw nothing out of place, but remained suspicious. She moved to the slatted doors that led outside and eased them open quietly, then slipped through.

She walked openly out onto the veranda of her small 'cottage', which boasted a bedroom, living room, kitchen, workout room, sauna and a utility room all scaled large to suit her desires for room to move around. She didn't feel like acting stealthily, and besides, dropping into a crouch with the loose shorts she was wearing would give her a totally undesired resemblance to a plumber.

Descending from the veranda to the sands of the beach, she looked around, almost casually, and was mildly embarrassed when a huge yawn occurred. A thought about a quick dip in the ocean was quickly brushed aside, both because she wasn't sure she was alone, and because she still needed sleep, and handling her hair properly after a dip in salt water would take so much work she'd be wide awake afterwards.

After a moment, she headed towards a net hammock slung between two trees. Reaching it, she again surveyed her surroundings. She wasn't getting that 'feeling of being watched' so often featured in popular entertainment, and she had good instincts about those things. She got into the hammock and stretched out, letting her mind drift, hoping for sleep to return. But instead, she began to review her recent actions for the umpteenth time.

She'd barely walked out of the Henchco show when the self-satisfied smirk had faded from her face. She didn't really know if the Princess would show up and make a scene, it was kind of a stretch. But _if_ she showed up....and messed up Doctor D's meeting...not that Shego _really _cared that much, but...she grimaced. Messing up the Doc's plans after all he went through wasn't right, either. Even if it wasn't an _evil _plan, she still worked for him.

But did she really care about what was right, wasn't being a villain all about not doing, Or caring about 'right'? She snorted. _"Simplify much? Not the same thing at all, I have a contract, and gave my word, and that means a whole different thing! I guess I'll just have to hope Kimmie either doesn't show, or doesn't screw things up when she does." _She settled back, hands clasped behind her head, and looked up at the stars already fading in the lightening sky. After a few minutes, her eyes closed, and her breathing soon became deep and regular.

After maintaining a posture of absolute stillness for another fifteen minutes, Kim Possible began to slowly inch her way backwards away from the sleeping thief. She was only twenty feet from the gently swaying hammock, barely hidden by some flowering bushes, crouched so low she could have won most limbo contests with ease.

She had had a double shock, nearly falling over the hammock itself because of her preoccupation with the Kimmunicator's navigation screen, and then having Shego walk out of the house. Fortunately the woman had been facing away from Kim. Not directly away, but sufficiently for Kim not to be in her peripheral vision as the girl backed up and sidestepped behind the bushes before dropping down.

She had the position of Drakken's house mapped perfectly, but she hadn't known the position of Shego's house as well as she should have. Another oversight to kick herself for, when she had the leisure time to review her performance. _"Falling somewhere in importance well below not having my head in the game! I don't know why I'm still having problems, I know I can't turn back now. I'd never forgive myself if I went back, and it turned out my initial instincts were right!"_

Finally at a safe distance, she rose slightly and moved back into the trees, never relaxing her surveillance of the ground before her. Shego may not be an immediate threat, but after her other mistakes, she wasn't taking any chances there might be more surprises awaiting her.

She could barely make out a low wall, barely five feet tall, which apparently marked the northern boundary of Drakken's property, but hardly constituted an obstacle. She used the Kimmunicator to scan for alarms, and found some simple ones present, nothing like Drakken installed around his lairs. That didn't mean there weren't more serious security measures on the far side of the wall, however. But nothing showed in the green-tinted images she now gazd intently at.

Trying to use the night-vision function soon began to give her a headache, mostly due to fatigue, so she finally decided to wait until daylight to make a proper reconnaissance. Drakken wasn't an early riser as a rule, so she expected whatever meeting was being held to be a lunchtime or later affair.

Withdrawing about fifty yards from the wall, she found a spot amongst a small cluster of trees to settle down in. Setting the Kimmunicator to wake her at dawn, she set the alarm to vibrate, tucked the device away, and made herself as comfortable as possible. Then, as if flipping a switch, she went to sleep.

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Betty Director was an early riser by nature, a good behavior for someone in her position. Subordinates who showed the same tendency didn't impress her, as she considered it a given that they should act thus, but on the other hand she had no tolerance for unexcused tardiness. One agent who had never given her cause to be angry on that score was Will Du.

Now moving through the still-silent halls of her headquarters with a cup of coffee picked up at the cafeteria, she spotted Du ahead of her, seemingly engrossed in a file he was reading as he walked. But then again, Du never looked less than engrossed when reading something. Unless he was pretending to do so while conducting a tail on someone, in which case he had a tendency to be painfully obvious. Though he was reportedly improving in that area.

Overtaking the slower walking agent, Betty waited for a brief moment to see if he even bothered to look up. After receiving no acknowledgment, she spoke up. "Good Morning, Agent Du."

Will's verbal response seemed to be automatic. "Good Morning, Doctor Director." There was about a ten second delay before Will closed the file, tucked it under his arm, then cleared his throat before looking at his boss. "Ma'am! Sorry, I didn't notice you. Unforgivable lack of attention to my surroundings."

Betty sipped her coffee, and withheld comment on that subject, instead inquiring, "What had you so engrossed, Agent Du?"

Will rather unnecessarily tapped the file folder as he replied. "Ah! A sighting report, concerning one Erich Kummetz, are you familiar with the name?"

Betty didn't bother responding to the question, which in itself was all the reply she felt Will required. Instead, she asked her own question. "Where was he seen, and when?"

"Saint Bartholomew Island, two days ago." Will responded, then added apologetically, "The report was delayed going through channels."

"Hmmm. Maybe while someone tried to bag him themselves?" Betty shook her head. "Not important now, I take it he's dropped out of sight again? I wonder what he's doing in that part of the world, or whether he's already done it and gone?"

Will hesitated briefly, then replied, "I actually believe he may be going to Isle Drakkon." That actually caused Betty to stop and fix him with an intense stare. Will didn't flinch as some did, but launched into an explanation for his comment. "His last sighting was two weeks ago at the Bermuda Triangle Hotel and Casino..." Realizing he was wasting time telling her something she already knew, he 'fast-forwarded' through his own response, "Where we have finally identified one of the people he was seen to spend a great deal of time talking to. Edouard LeMonde, the cousin of the former President of Isle Drakkon. As there have been two reported attempts by hired mercenaries to free the ex-President since his removal from power, I believe this may be a sign of an impending third attempt."

Betty started walking again as she shook her head slightly. "You don't hire Erich Kummetz for a rescue attempt, Agent Du, which is clearly apparent in reading his file." Will barely flinched at the rebuke, but Betty paid no attention. "No, _if_ Kummetz is involved, it's to arrange and orchestrate some deaths, and they won't be subtle deaths, either!" She finished her starter cup as they reached her office door. Abby Hogan stood just outside the door, watching the approaching pair quizzically. "Abby, I'm going to assume that our people in the Caribbean have been alerted to keep a special lookout for Erich Kummetz and his current traveling companion, whoever that might be."

"Liam." Will offered helpfully, "Various last names used, real one unknown at this time. Reputed to be a killer totally lacking in remorse, with no limits on who he'll kill. Overly enamored of large caliber revolvers for his personal use, the bigger, the better. Current weapon of choice believed to be a Smith & Wesson Model 500 .500 Magnum."

Betty acknowledged his contribution with a sharp nod, before continuing to Abby, "He just might be headed to Isle Drakkon. Notify the US State Department, they might want to pass a warning on to the government down there." She paused, frowning. "You know, any time that place comes up lately, I'm tempted to check on Kim Possible's whereabouts!" She shook her head, "Hardly necessary, last time I talked to Kim, I think we dealt with her obsession with Drakken and that island quite adequately. What else do we have happening this morning?"

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Kim finished a hasty breakfast consisting of an energy bar and water, putting the bar wrapper in a ziplock bag and stowing it back in her pack as she considered her plans. Standing up and making sure she was screened from observation from the direction of Drakken's home, she began some stretching exercises. She could already see by the early morning light things that made her frown. The terrain around Drakken's house was ideal for sneaking up close to it, but terrible for conducting surveillance from a distance.

The low wall ran from a point just short of the beach, and actually looked quite old when viewed in the light, badly weathered from probably decades of exposure. It disappeared eastwards from Kim's view into the trees to her left as she stood facing it.

Taking out her Kimmunicator and two attachments, she assembled them and began a more comprehensive sweep for detection measures. She soon determined that there was nothing she couldn't easily spoof with her gear, and frowned. Either Drakken was taking security far too lightly in general, or there was nothing here he really needed to hide or protect. Kim sighed in exasperation. It was really beginning to look like a wasted trip.

She next moved to a point from which where she could see Shego's cottage. The thief was still occupying the hammock, and Kim smiled briefly as she considered all the fun she could have had with such a situation if she hadn't been trying to avoid detection, or even arousing Shego's suspicions.

Studying the house itself curiously, Kim saw that it was quite large, though only one story tall. It had few windows, but the ones it had were large, with reinforced frames. The roof had only a gentle slope to it, barely rising above the walls, and was roofed in bright red clay tiles. _"Apparently green wasn't available!" _Kim smirked at the thought. Then she frowned and sat back on her haunches. _"Why don't I think of my foes as human, these days? I used to, I really did, but lately any sign of them being 'normal' seems to make me frown. Like spying on Shego doing a breast self-examination embarrassed me, but also made me unhappy for some reason. And uncomfortable, too, but that's the way I should have felt."_

A winding flagstone path led away from Shego's cottage through some well-kept flowering bushes towards Drakken's house. But Kim was still vexed at the lack of a clear view of the house from her new position. What she could see was interesting, though.

The house itself was two stories tall, built atop an artificially raised mound. Kim considered it likely that there was more of it within the mound, if only a storm shelter. Of course, with Drakken, it could be something much more sinister.

The mound itself was symmetrical, it's slope broken halfway down by another path that circled the house on the north side. This was lined with narrow gardens on both sides, filled with colorful flowers. From an aerial photograph she'd studied, Kim knew there was a matching path on the south side of the house, both leading from the fringe of the driveway in front of the house around to lead up to the rear patio. Kim couldn't see that area from her position due to a thick belt of tall flowering bushes she didn't recognize offhand. This shielded the patio on both it's north and south sides, forming a hedge that blocked all vision. The path made a sharp turn before reaching the patio, disappearing behind the bushes. Kim could just make out the tops of the doors leading out to the patio over the top of the hedge. Seeing what was going on would have required her to view things from the beach or climb a tree, something she preferred not to do, as the most suitable ones, or rather the ones high enough near her were all coconut palms, with branchless trunks offering no concealment to a climber. She noted that the path from Shego's cottage joined the one circling the house at a juncture screened from view from Kim's position by a stand of smaller palms surrounded by flowering bushes.

The house itself was white, again with a red tile roof. The first floor on the north side facing Kim had no door or windows in it. Two large windows were on the second floor, with iron grillwork window boxes, each holding two flower pots flanking a larger rectangular planter, providing more color to the picture.

Kim rose and began to work her way east towards the front of the house, remembering not to become totally absorbed in the building, but to occasionally check her surroundings. That enabled her to spot a small sign strung between two trees on a wire, some twenty yards north of the old wall. Suddenly certain of what it was, and grimacing slightly, Kim walked around to where she could read it. And as she suspected, it was a 'No Trespassing' sign. _"Spankin! I was already on Drakken's property and didn't know it! One more black mark to add to this mission report!" _She soon located two more signs, one back closer to the beach, but not close enough to have easily been seen by her the previous night, and one farther east, just in sight of the road passing in front of Drakken's property. _"I assumed the wall was the property line, but I was already on private property, could have gotten in some trouble if Doctor Drakken merely decided to sic the local police on me!"_

And that brought her current dilemma into focus. From beyond the property line, she could see nothing, just hints and glimpses of the house through the foliage. She certainly couldn't maintain surveillance of the house and any visitors from here. So, she had to decide whether or not to trespass, as belated as that choice may have been. If this was a lair sitch, there'd be no problem. Since villains rarely paid property taxes or the like on lairs, they weren't generally recognized as private property. Here, she'd have to justify her presence if caught. If she actually caught Drakken associating with someone sinister, she'd probably be forgiven. Probably. Otherwise, the nature of Wade's tip would probably _not_ impress anyone in official circles as sufficient cause.

She decided that for the moment, she'd survey the extent of Drakken's property, and try and get a good look at all sides of the house if possible. There coul dbe a location from which she could see the guests arriving clearly enough to identify them without trespassing. Adjusting her backpack, she began her circumnavigation of Drakken's home.

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Roughly four miles away, in a house located near the island's northern tip, a meeting was taking place. Sixteen men were crowded into the living room of the storm-battered, sparsely furnished dwelling. One piece of furniture was the current object of interest for the assemblage, a table on which a collection of sketches, maps, and aerial photographs were scattered.

Ten of the men were natives of Isle Drakkon, and those included two who had to be very careful not to be seen by most of the island's inhabitants. They were the former Jailer, Dumas, and Edouard LeMonde. The remaining six non-natives were hired mercenaries, though four would easily pass as locals. The remaining pair were another story.

Standing back from the table as Dumas conducted a briefing, Erich Kummetz didn't look at all as if he belonged there. In his mid-forties, he was a short, slightly built man with a melancholy face. A face at least forty men and women could have counted as their last vision on Earth. The mind behind that face commanded fees in the millions for the simplest job he'd even consider performing. And one not at all unfamiliar with situations like these. Though usually calm both inwardly as well as outwardly, he had a vague sense of apprehension about this job.

He'd been involved in 'Transitions of Power' before, but this one had an obstacle to success of a kind new to him. A supervillain, one with an extremely capable sidekick possessing unique abilities. That alone was cause for concern. Another was the fact that he hadn't had a hand in hiring the team he was managing. He knew none of the pros personally, nor had he heard anything special about their previous work. And the locals? Dumas was a thug. One with brains, but a tendency to choose the wrong priorities. And LeMonde he could have done without, since because he couldn't trust him without proper supervision, he'd have to keep him close by during the operation tomorrow.

He frowned when he thought about the delays that had afflicted the operation. They'd been unavoidable, save one, and that was a minor nuisance concerning his companion's superstitions. He looked at said companion, suppressing a sigh of despair. Liam had proven less capable then Kummetz had hoped in several areas, primarily his mental game. While intelligent, he didn't always put that intelligence to it's best use in tactical situations. Despite nearly a year invested in trying to train him, Kummetz was now convinced that he should seek a replacement as soon as possible.

Liam was big, burly, and handsome, with short fair hair and a deep tan. He was of Irish descent, but the last five generations of his family had been born in Australia. However, neither heritage was apparent in his speech. Right now, he leaned against the wall opposite Kummetz, arms crossed and a faint smirk on his face as he listened to Dumas run through the plan for the third time, trying to keep any emotion from his voice. Distinctly absent from Liam was the presence of a gun, one of the reasons for the delay. Not a decisive one, or at all important, Kummetz would have gone ahead today or even yesterday if all the mercs had been able to arrive discretely, and on time. But it had been necessary to make sure only one particular Customs Agent had been on duty when some of them arrived, one who would not ask awkward questions.

Logistics shouldn't have been complicated, Dumas still had contacts on the island who were able to supply decent weapons and some equipment, but Liam...Kummetz shook his head, then looked around to see if anyone was paying attention to him. No one was, so he returned to his train of thought. Liam had a superstition about the guns he used on a job. He needed to carry one that he'd fired fifty times on the range, for good luck. Currently, that meant his .500 Magnum revolver, which they had not been able to bring into the country normally. It was being shipped through a special connection of Dumas', and was overdue. But, assurances had been received that it would be arriving in the early morning hours, ready for pick-up no later then eight the next morning. Kummetz checked his watch. _"23 hours from now. No point in arguing about it, tomorrow is the earliest we can put our little 'surprise' in _Herr_ Drakken's mail, anyway."_

He now dropped any pretense of interest in the briefing, turning to walk to a nearby window and gaze out. Bits of the beach were visible through the dense growth behind the house. _"Taking on a supervillain for the first time will be challenging enough, I hope there are no unexpected additional complications." _He mused. Hiring another person with 'unique' abilities had been an option, his contacts had even told him there were one or two who would relish a chance to take out Shego, but Kummetz had stood on pride. Besides, he didn't trust people who had such powers 'gifted' on them, he preferred people who had to work to achieve their skills and reputations.

Plus, he liked to think there was no foe whom he could not defeat with the proper application of his intellect. Mind you, the means he intended to use had been expensive, but his employers had deep pockets. And far too obvious motives. Kummetz himself had no intentions of remaining long once LeMonde was back in charge of Isle Drakkon. He had a strong suspicion that this second change in government would cause greater scrutiny of the island's affairs, and quite possibly intervention of some kind by other governments. Too many skeletons from LeMonde's reign had come to light since is fall.

But he was getting ahead of himself. He still had to pull off step one of the plan. As he looked eastwards, he considered the latest weather reports. A tropical storm was out there, path uncertain. It would be just his luck to have it interfere with his plans. 'Forces of Nature' had far too often complicated his plans. He snorted. Sometimes those forces had been embodied in human form.

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Kim was half-expecting the call from Ron, but at least his timing wasn't bad. She had half-completed her trip around to the south side of Drakken's little estate. It had taken her longer then anticipated because of the terrain. But ironically, that was because of it's openness rather then it's density. A hundred yards from the beach she had come across a two-lane road running north to south. It was freshly paved up to a point just past the entrance to Drakken's driveway, coming from the direction of the capital to the south. She had wondered if it had been re-paved to that point solely for the mad scientist's convenience, before noting signs that the work had been hastily abandoned, and remembering the hurricane.

She had crossed the road after noting no visible traffic, well above Drakken's place, and then began working her way south along the road. But she had quickly reached a broad open space directly opposite Drakken's. It was lower then the road, however, so by going flat she was able to crawl quickly to a point directly opposite the driveway and peer cautiously over the shoulder.

The driveway was broad and straight and lined with trees, restricting her view to the center part of the house only. It appeared Drakken had indeed built down into the mound...for his garage. Kim could see that it had three bays, broad enough to accommodate a normal car or one of Drakken's hovercraft. Above the doors was a balcony, with what were apparently the front doors to the house. But Kim couldn't see how it was reached. However, she did know that the driveway widened into a wide circle in front of the house from aerial pics she'd studied. She just hadn't checked the details as thoroughly as she should have. She knew that the area from the road to the house was thick with trees and brush, and would be easy to sneak through, if she wanted. _"Alarms and traps notwithstanding, of course."_

Her current location was a poor one for surveillance, even if she kept her head well down. She was easily visible from any vehicles on the road, presumably including whatever ones delivered Drakken's guests. Looking to her rear, towards the east again, she saw a steep hill some two hundred yards away, topped with small trees and brush. The side nearest her was rock, and looked entirely vertical. So, she'd have to work her away around the bottom to find a means of reaching the top. She checked her watch, then rejected the idea. _"Don't want to get out of sight and earshot of the road, might miss the visitor's arrival. Guess I'll just have to do it the way I _should_ have done in the first place!" _She had already noticed a few stone outcrops sticking up in the field she lay on the edge of. One was quite close to the road, and easily big enough to hide behind. She low-crawled until she was behind it, then pulled out her Kimmunicator. And right at that moment, it began to vibrate.

She saw the source of the call, and shook her head with a wry grin. Looking around quickly, she shucked her backpack and pulled off her top. She then turned so she was facing the outcrop, with the sun over her shoulder. Checking to make sure no tropical flora would be visible, she angled the Kimmunicator so only her head and shoulders would be visible on Ron's screen. Hopefully he'd think she was wearing a halter from what he could see. Then she activated the screen, and her best friend's face filled the screen. Except for a small block of text in the lower right hand corner. Kim's eyes drifted to it, and she barely kept from groaning aloud. The text showed Ron's GPS position, and the legend 'Camp Wannaweep'. And similar data on Kim's location would be on Ron's screen right now. _"Maybe he won't notice?" _Kim thought hopefully, smiling with genuine warmth at the screen. "Hi Ron, what's up?"

"Hey KP! Um, what are you doing on Isle Drakkon?" Now Kim did groan, and fall onto her back, smacking her forehead. Ron's face, screwed up into a frown, now took on a look of concern. "Kim! Are you okay? Uh, can't remember the 'safe' question, something about clams..."

"I'm fine, Ron!" Kim responded in exasperation, "I just didn't want you to know I'd gone on a mission without telling you! I mean, it's just a recon, no Big, honestly, but I didn't want you worrying with all the drama you must be going through there." Kim hoped by shifting the conversation to Camp Wannaweep she'd get Ron completely off the subject of Isle Drakkon. Though she had to admit that what would have been a sure thing a year previously wasn't any longer, Ron was not so easily distracted these days. Fortunately on this occasion, the old Ron came to the fore.

"Oh, man, KP, you don't want to hear the problems I'm having here!" After which Ron spent twenty minutes telling Kim all about those problems, taking her away from Isle Drakkon entirely in her mind as she went through a variety of emotions listening to the account. And fortunately something came up at Ron's end before he could get back to the subject of Kim's sitch. "Ah, Kim? Gotta go, we're trying to build a replica of an old time keelboat here, and I think one of my fellow counselors may need me to un-nail him from the cabin, so I'll talk to you later!"

"Later Ron." Kim barely got out before the screen went blank. She lay there for a moment longer, feeling the warm sun on her skin and again thinking about this whole sitch. But she quickly quenched her doubts again with the reminder that she couldn't turn back now, for fear she'd be proven right in her suspicions later.

Sitting back up, she brushed her back off, pulled a twig or something that had somehow lodged under the strap of her sports bra out, then re-donned her top and pack. Now she brought up the photos of Drakken's estate up on the Kimmunicator, and studied them as best she could with the zoom functions. She soon saw enough to realize her trip to the south side would be fruitless. That side of the house had no more cover then the north, and lacked the old wall for cover as well. She was able to see the driveway better. It did widen out into a large circle, which she already knew. Stairs led up to both ends of the balcony overhanging the garage, doubling back on themselves once in the process.

She studied the back patio. One thing absent she might have expected was a pool. She knew Shego liked to swim, and Drakken could move quite quickly through water when motivated, but he disliked swimming in the ocean. Kim didn't know if that was because of fear of predators, or a dislike for salt water. But that wasn't important now, and she focused on trying to spot some way to keep an eye on things at the back of the house. But nothing came to mind, save the impractical notion of doing it from the water. Besides having nowhere to hide in the water, she had nothing to wear for such surveillance. She'd left the reviled bikini with her wetsuit at her landing site, and wasn't going swimming in her underwear. And obviously her birthday suit was right out. Getting caught spying like that would really show if it was possible to die from embarrassment.

In the end she decided to return to her previous position. It had the advantage of giving her a chance to monitor activity at Shego's cottage as well as the house, though not as well a she'd like. To get a look at Drakken's visitors, however...she grimaced. For a clear view, she'd have to get into the trees around the driveway itself, and watch them arrive. Unless they drove into the garage and got out inside, because Kim was certain there was a means of getting from inside the house to the garage without going outside. Or there should be, she reasoned.

She regretted not being as open-minded about remote surveillance as Wade was. A portable surveillance drone was one of his pet projects, one that she could carry and deploy on missions. But adding the control system to the Kimmunicator would require another remodeling job on the device, or another attachment cleverly disguised as an object a normal teenage girl would carry on her person. Sometimes, Kim felt like telling him not to bother with the clever camouflage, but he took such joy in the creation....She sighed, and began her low-crawl return trip.

A mild scare from a passing car and an irritating moment of awkwardly snagging her backpack later, she reached the place with a good view of Shego's cottage. She saw no sign of the thief at first, but then noticed her night clothes discarded a few feet from the trees, and that quickly drew Kim's eyes to Shego's head as she broke the surface about thirty feet from shore. Movement then drew Kim's eyes back to the house, where a young woman in shorts and a short-sleeved shirt, both in white, was approaching down the path from the main house, a covered tray balanced in her hands. She set it down on a small table on Shego's veranda, then waved towards the swimming thief, who waved back, then started towards shore.

The young woman picked up a large folded towel from the chair next to the table and walked out to meet the naked thief as she waded ashore. Kim wasn't embarrassed at spying on Shego in her current state of undress, she'd been in this position more then once. And it was certainly preferable to accidentally catching DNAmy in the same state. The woman unfolded the towel and held it out, and after an exchange of words, Kim saw Shego laugh as she began drying herself. It was a big laugh, something Kim had rarely seen from her foe._ "Okay, why does this even bother me?" _Sighing, Kim turned away and made her way back through the brush, again studying the main house. Then more movement caused her to stop and crouch down.

She had spotted two men, moving along the path besides the house, coming from the front of the house. They were both dressed in olive green short sleeved shirts and khaki pants, with belts holding what appeared to Kim to be a mace canister and a walkie-talkie each. One was short and stocky, probably of Chinese ancestry, while his taller and younger companion's ancestors had most likely come from Africa. Both were very fit looking. The shorter man was talking to the taller in a manner that implied instruction, with many gestures for emphasis.

At the midpoint of the path, they both stopped, and after some final words, the shorter man continued along the path, following it all the way up to the rear patio. Kim studied the security man left behind. He wasn't what Kim expected in a henchman. There was little chance of any concealed weapons under the tight shirt he wore, and an ankle holster would have had to be quite small to remain concealed beneath the slacks he wore. _"He looks like a local man, hired for security." _Kim thought, _"Or he's meant to look like one. But he certainly doesn't scream 'lair guard', that's for sure. And he looks like he's probably pretty competent."_

But that assessment was quickly challenged. A couple of minutes after his superior disappeared from sight, he left the path, stepping carefully over the bordering garden, and walked down to the old wall. Leaning against it facing the house, he bent over, and after a moment, stood up with something in each hand. Kim had a suspicion exactly what was going on even before he put the obvious joint in his mouth and lit it with the lighter in his other hand. Kim smirked and shook her head, but then suddenly snapped alert. Faint noises coming from the front of the house betokened the approach of one or more cars.

"Snap!" She muttered. Taking a quick look at the guard, who's back was to her, she began moving rapidly towards the road. If there was a safe place to get over the wall closer to the road, and she believed there were one or two promising ones, she now intended to get close to the driveway and see who was arriving, and find out once and for all if she was wasting her time here.

Her luck slipped a bit here. The guard was keeping an eye on the path, watchful for the return of his boss or anyone else, keeping watch in both directions. And he just caught a flicker of movement in his peripheral vision as he looked towards the front of the house. Reactions a bit slow, he turned too slowly to actually spot Kim, but nevertheless continued to study the trees and brush beyond the wall. Where many would have dismissed the brief glimpse as nothing, especially considering what he was smoking, this guard wasn't the kind to so easily give up. Regretfully snubbing out his joint, he climbed over the wall and moved into the the trees beyond.

Kim clearly heard what had to be at least two vehicles arriving and she slipped over the wall, casting a quick look along it towards where she last saw the guard. He wasn't visible, and she hesitated briefly before moving ahead through the brush, trying to be stealthy even as the sound of voices indicated that the people she was trying to see had disembarked from their vehicles. She faintly heard and recognized Drakken's voice, but couldn't make the words out. Then she found her path obstructed by bushes she couldn't hope to pass through silently. She side slipped to her left, now trying to move even quicker as she now believed some of the voices were getting higher, probably mounting the steps.

But again she was frustrated when a warning tone through her re-inserted earpiece brought her to a halt. There was a clear gap in the brush, and she'd been about to dash through it. Now she dropped into a crouch and studied the ground and branches carefully, mindful that her opportunity was slipping away. _"What could be here that wouldn't be giving false alarms every time an animal went through?" _She thought frantically. Then she saw something, the barest hint of a corner, of something concealed under the leaves, and had her answer. _"Pressure plate, of course, set for a minimum weight!" _The voices had now faded, but Kim didn't quit yet, determining the size of the plate took a moment, then she stepped gingerly across it, and was soon in sight of the drive. And totally vexed.

Three hybrid SUVs were now parked in the circle. They had local license plates, of course, or the two she could see the plates on did. Two more of Drakken's security people were present, along with four men dressed in dark blue lightweight jackets and pants over white shirts. And they were armed. On three she could only see hints of shoulder holsters, but the fourth openly carried an MP5 submachine gun. Kim found herself slightly annoyed that she couldn't remember the specific model's designation, it had a retractable shoulder stock and a laser sight mounted on it. _"Armed guards are suggestive, but not conclusive! Snap! Why does this keep getting harder and harder, it should be a simple recon job!"_

Seriously vexed now, Kim didn't consider simply waiting until the visitors returned to their vehicles. She retraced her steps past the pressure plate and over the wall, but instead of returning to the trees, she ghosted along the wall it self, staying low save for occasional stops to try and spot the guard. He wasn't smoking his joint anymore, unless he was seated now. Kim briefly wondered if he had been caught by his superior.

Moving past the point where she had seen him last, the girl tried to suppress her frustration enough to consider things calmly. But all that kept coming up was the need to resolve the identity of Drakken's visitors. She came to a point not too far from the end of the wall. She looked at the cluster of palms and other bushes near the junction of the paths, then farther up to the hedge blocking her view of the patio. Again faint voices came to her, indicating that the meeting was indeed being held outdoors, and that only fueled her determination, at the cost of her reasoning.

She slipped her backpack off again, setting it beside the wall, and braced herself, working up her nerve for the leap over the wall, and the quick dash to the palms.

And then someone grabbed her from behind.

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Cliffhanger! Sorry about that.

I mentioned at the end of the first chapter that eventually things in this little 'universe' would eventually end up kind of Kigo. Well, I didn't mean this particular story, for all those who are fans of Kigo, I meant my whole storyline here. That part is far in the future.

For now, Please Read and Review.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Kim Possible, any of the other characters from that show, or those from any other media I may reference in my stories.

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Doctor Director had her own small dining room adjacent to her office, but rarely used it. She knew it had it's practical aspects, of course, and wasn't just a perk. But she still preferred to eat in the cafeteria, if she left her office at all. For lunch today however, she put it to use to entertain an old friend.

Lizabeth Carella worked for another agency with international responsibilities, in the Intelligence trade. She had known Betty when they both worked for an entirely different agency, which was disbanded at the same time Global Justice was becoming a reality. And she hadn't changed much since, though she showed more gray in her auburn hair then Betty had in her brown, and maybe a few more wrinkles at the corners of her eyes.

After a few pleasantries and reminisces, Betty finally chose to ask for the _real_ reason Liz had made this visit personally. Exchanges of information were normal, but the deliveries of hard copy and other documents was usually carried out by regular couriers, not a senior supervisor. Though Betty didn't know exactly what Liz's duties were these days, she highly doubted that she had been busted to courier. Betty intended to ask a question of her own, but wanted to clear up Liz's reason for being here first.

"So, Liz, about time you told me what's brought you all the way from DC, isn't it?" Betty asked with one eyebrow raised. Liz responded with a faint grin. "I think you've doubled your stock of patience since our rookie days, Betty." She sat up straighter in her chair, studying Betty's face as she replied, "Kim Possible."

Now Betty's eyebrow really climbed. "Kim? Why are you interested in her just now?"

Liz hesitated briefly before replying. "Well, to be honest, I'm really interested in your changed opinion on her, but something did recently happen that brought her to my attention. You know one of my jobs right now is screening proposals before they're submitted to the men who have the power to implement them?"

Betty's face reflected her piqued interest. "No I didn't, but that sounds like an interesting chore." Her tone suggested she didn't believe any such thing.

Liz made a face. "Basically, I'm expected to keep juvenile ideas fostered by new analysts from reaching the handful of congenital idiots who might actually think they're good ideas, and start something up that ends up embarrassing the Agency. The 'idiots' are there to throw at congressmen, and take the fall for disasters, basically. Anyway, I occasionally get a new guy or girl that thinks it would wonderful to have Kim Possible, or Shego, or Jen Paladin working for us, and has watched too many Hollywood movies about how we're _supposed_ to operate. Eventually, they grow out of these or similar notions, or they just don't last."

Betty shook her head. "Trying to control any of those ladies is a bad idea, but you know that already, don't you? What exactly was the plan to control Kim?"

Liz smiled grimly. "Hold on to your patch for this one, Betty! First, there's a certain research facility in a certain foreign country that we'd really like to see shut down, okay? Now, James Possible is currently working on a Top Secret project, but then when isn't he? Anyway, the project does involve launching some highly classified equipment into orbit, doing some things with it, and bringing it back down safely."

Betty snorted. "How descriptive! I do know about Operation Echo Redux, Liz. But keep going, how does this project connect with the research facility, or should I guess?"

Liz shook her head. "You'd guess wrong, trust me! They should have nothing to do with each other, if not for the overactive imagination of a vicarious 'James Bond'. This guy has proposed sabotaging the rocket, after sneaking the real classified equipment off it and replacing it with junk. The rocket then lands safely in the aforementioned foreign country, and evidence is found suggesting James Possible arranged for it to happen. And then..."

"Kim is given an opportunity to prove her father is innocent..." Betty cut in, "Or just told that the only way for her to save her father from losing his security clearance is to retrieve...or destroy? The technology from the rocket. Which means, I'm guessing, she'll have to blow the place up?"

Liz nodded. "Bingo! Well, more or less. And then of course since she's committed an act of espionage, which this other country could claim as terrorism, she now has no choice but to work for us."

Betty shook her head. "Just how dumb is the moron who proposed this? Messing with a billion dollar rocket project, having to pull a covert switch of the equipment inside the Space Center, which has high security? And he's seriously underestimating Kim's intelligence, or overestimating her naivety, Liz!"

"Not dumb, Betty, just not in touch with reality as it exists in our business. Or not yet, anyway! But there was an outside possibility that if the proposal had reached certain people's desks, it might have been acted on, if not to the full extent of the plan. His perspective is a bit skewed is all. Or if it's not, he'll be unemployed before long, trust me. And that's not the most outlandish proposal I've ever come across!"

Betty looked at her in mild disbelief. "You've had crazier proposals then that? Hard to believe! Tell me one crazier!"

Liz bit her lip, then shook her head. "Rather hear why you're suddenly underselling the girl in your evaluations. I mean, I thought your initial reports were just a tad gushy, to be honest! But you've gone a bit too far the opposite way lately. One would almost think that either you're saving her for GJ, or trying to protect her from our world."

Betty sipped her iced tea to stall her response. She gave Liz a searching look, as if trying to determine whether they had actually arrived at the reason for her personal appearance at GJ. Then she shrugged. "I've already told Kim I don't think she's got a future with GJ, and I meant it. All in all, her nature isn't suited for what she might have to do here, mainly because she won't subscribe to any 'acceptable losses' scenarios. Except, perhaps, if she's the 'loss', and it saves others."

"You know there are people who think Kim is a deniable asset for you, don't you?" Liz asked casually, then tensed when she saw Betty bristle.

"I DO NOT have _any_ 'deniable' assets, Liz, Global Justice doesn't operate that way! At least the North American branch doesn't for a fact, nor do I believe any other section does! It isn't necessary for the kind of work we're chartered to do, which requires full accountability." Betty broke off to regain her composure, while Liz raised both hands in a gesture of surrender.

"Sorry, sorry! But, were you more upset about the general insinuation, or the fact Kim was named?"

Betty just shook her head. "Drop it please, Liz!" She drank more tea, and then asked her own question. "You have any idea why it took so long for the sighting report of Erich Kummetz being spotted in St. Barts to get to GJ?"

Liz rolled her eyes. "Well, it _could_ be that a certain agent wanted to try and bag him personally, and took a bit too long to assemble a suitable team, but you didn't hear that from me."

Betty muttered something under her breath. Then she shook her head sharply, before speaking. "I'm not going to ask how many more times that kind of idiocy will occur, the answer is, as long as mankind lasts!"

"True, true...any ideas where Erich went from St. Barts?" Betty's gaze narrowed at Liz's question. "That wouldn't be the real reason you came here today, to get a lead on Kummetz?" She asked warily.

Liz chuckled and shook her head. "Not guilty, I swear! In fact I didn't hear the official report on the incident until I was on my way here, and that's the truth! But, my boss did ask me to see if GJ had any leads while I was here..." she shrugged apologetically.

"I see." Betty answered, still sounding unconvinced. "Well, unlike some other agencies, GJ does share relevant information like that with all interested parties. And since we only learned about the St. Barts sighting this morning..." she hesitated, "We haven't had time to develop any real leads, but one thing did come to light." She related her conversation with Will Du earlier that morning.

A pained look crossed Liz's face. "Isle Drakkon? Terrific! Our only asset on that island is compromised!"

"Oh?" Betty grinned faintly, "Does he get fruit baskets mailed to him? Or her, as the case may be?"

Liz frowned. "Fruit baskets? What are you...oh! No, he gets junk mail from companies that sell electronic surveillance equipment, make-up, advice for seducing women, and sports cars. He seems to be on about four dozen mailing lists since the revolution."

Betty smirked. "So, that doesn't mean he won't be useful for this, Drakken might be interested..." Her voice trailed off, as her mind shifted gears, and a slight frown began to appear on her face. "Could Drakken be Kummetz's target? He's never gone after that kind of target before, and then there's Shego..."

Liz was nodding slowly. "Maybe, but only as a preliminary action, a precursor to overthrowing the Lucas government, maybe put LeMonde back in charge."

"And how would our Government view such an event?" Betty asked.

"Ah! Truthfully, with some concern. There are some people around who might welcome such a change, but as far as we can tell they're only getting sympathy, but not support, in DC. Lucas has made a very favorable impression on his neighbors down there, as well as the UN, to the extent they're interested at all. Having four of the Consuls from the largest nations take a look at LeMonde's prison, as well as the city jail, and view other evidence of abuses immediately after the revolution certainly helped. Certainly negated most of the negative opinion caused by Drakken's involvement, not to mention Shego, Motor Ed, and Frugal Lucre."

"Ed still hangs out down there a lot." Betty commented, "Either because he likes being somewhere where he's considered a hero, or he's planning to become a beach bum." She made a dismissive gesture, "Not important! What you're saying is that a lot of people will be upset if Lucas is overthrown, especially if it happens violently, and someone who might be a puppet is installed in his place?"

Liz snorted, shaking her head. "Well, I didn't say that exactly, but that's probably accurate. I swear some people are still living in the fifties or early sixties! I blame our recent administration, who seemed to be living in the past, where everything seemed so simple, and inevitable! Another thing, returning to the subject of our earlier talk, Kim Possible's involvement, though not highly publicizied, puzzled a lot of people. But the fact that she saved Lucas actually has counted in his favor more then I would've imagined."

"Well, at least she's not involved this time in whatever's happening." Betty commented. She was looking away from Liz, and didn't catch a sudden frown on her guest's face as she asked, "What details do you have on the previous two attempts to break LeMonde out of prison?"

Liz took a moment to focus on Betty's question, banishing thoughts of Kim Possible from her head. "Well, first attempt was a total fiasco, mercenaries tried to enter the country legally, in pairs or singly. All turned away at the airport, at least the first six were, at which point the operation was apparently scrubbed. That was in December. Then in March, they tried a covert insertion. Not sure how they got on the island, but they left via the airport, some on stretchers. Shego was at the airport to see them off in person, and some of their injuries were almost certainly her work."

"I see." Betty was silent for a moment as she mulled that information over. "It seems that those two are keeping their promise to Lucas, though it doesn't prove anything, really."

"True..uh, Betty, about Kim Possible...um, there was a sighting report on her from Trinidad. Going aboard a yacht, taking two big bags of gear and a surf board. The yacht is being used to shoot some silly reality show, bunch of kids on it, well, you know what I mean. Doesn't seem like Kim's scene at all."

A sour look was now on Betty's face. "No, it certainly doesn't!" She rose and without a word went through the connecting door into her office. Liz followed her hesitantly, and found her standing at her desk, staring at the phones. Then Betty shook her head and turned away from the desk. "I'm not her mother, or her nursemaid! I can't get involved here, for both professional, and _personal_ reasons!" she snarled angrily. She stalked over to the bank of monitors on one wall of the office, eyes sweeping across all the active screens, but only cursorily.

Liz cleared her throat. "I really need to get going, Betty. But one more thing. Whether or not we might send someone to try and 'deal' with Kummetz I don't know, but a couple of other Governments certainly already have people on his trail. Her Majesty's Government for one."

Betty turned from the screens, her face now neutral, save for a hint of interest. "Oh? Do they already have someone assigned?"

Liz hesitated before answering. "Not the sort of thing you really need to know about, Betty. But yes, though not one of their regulars, they're tied up elsewhere, we believe. So, they might have hired a freelancer. And when they go to that length, they always hire the best they can deal with."

Betty turned back to the monitors, brow furrowed in thought. _"A professional assassin, added to a counter-revolution, Drakken, Shego, Kummetz and his latest boy-toy, and now throw in Kim Possible! How much more complicated can things get?"_

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IN truth, it would have been better if the security guard hadn't recognized Kim. His hand was already on his radio, ready to notify the rest of the security team of an intruder, when he caught a clear glimpse of the girl's face. She had a ball cap on, with her hair tied back, but the red hair alone and her obvious femininity hadn't been enough for the guard to connect the dots. Partially due to the mild fog in his brain caused by his recent indulgence in a little recreational smoking. But now that he recognized her, all thoughts of proper procedure left his head as he considered his opportunity.

He'd heard all the stories about Kim Possible, both about her contribution to the revolution, and her alleged prowess in the martial arts. The guard held a 2nd degree black belt in karate, as well as having considerable experience in plain old brawling, starting at a young age. And he was heavily inclined to test himself, or prove something to others. And now he was struck by the question: could he take on Kim Possible? Was she for real, as far as fighting skills went? What would beating her do to his reputation? Then he hesitated, because there was a problem there. One that caused him to reconsider just following procedure, and making the call.

His fingers tapped nervously on the walkie-talkie holstered on his belt as two conflicting notions warred in his head. Then his fingers closed into a fist, and a grim smile briefly appeared on his face, before he dropped into a crouch and began to stealthily move towards the girl.

He'd originally gone some distance into the trees, looking for the source of the movement he'd glimpsed. He had seen nothing before reaching the boundary line, where he stopped and leaned back against a tree, shaking his head, muttering under his breath about smoking weed on the job, seeing things...then he turned around and spotted Kim moving along the wall.

Now, he crept closer to the girl, who's attention was focused beyond the wall, studying the house. He had been sneaking up on things since he was a child, both in play, and serious business. People or animals, barefoot or shod, day or night, he had experience with every conceivable combination. So the fact that he managed to get close enough to grab Kim was really no surprise, with the teen so distracted. But, the remainder of his plan didn't go so well.

Kim shucking her pack caused him to freeze briefly. Then he reached quickly forward to grab both of her shoulders. He never meant to immobilize her, as that would defeat his purpose of testing his skills against her. He expected Kim to snap her head back, and kept his head back enough to take it on the chin, rather then square in the face. He released her and jumped back, dropping into a fighting stance as he shook off the minor effects of the reduced blow.

The boot heel that connected with his left cheekbone before he even saw it coming was the first glitch in his plan. The solid blow to his solar plexus that landed before his head had finished snapping to the right from the first blow was more of a major inconvenience. But the real sign that he was having a bad day was the other boot catching him on the right side of his jaw just as his head came back to the front, while his knees were buckling as a result of the second blow. The buckling knees did make his trip to the ground shorter, however. Not that he could appreciate it much, being thoroughly unconscious at that point.

Kim dropped to a sitting position, back against the wall, even as her assailant hit the ground, ears alert for any signs of an alarm, or another foe. She was mildly shocked that she was breathing hard after such a quick fight, if one could call it that. She was also sweating far more profusely then her exertions or the temperature could account for. Shaking her head in exasperation, she brought herself under control. _"Okay, one more sign that I don't have my mind in the right mode, and I'm going back to the beach, put that blasted bikini on, and go make a fool of myself somewhere with an audience, rather then here on my own!"_

She looked at the man she'd just knocked out, and wondered if she should secure him. _"I've already blown this as a 'covert' mission, because he probably recognized me, or saw enough to make it clear I'm responsible! So, if it turns out Drakken isn't meeting some big bad guy, I'm going to have a lot of explaining to do!" _The man's appearance didn't make her feel hopeful. He was only carrying a radio and what looked like a cylinder of pepper spray or Mace on his belt. _"Of course, there might be something nastier in it...but he just doesn't look like a Drakken henchman! The smoking pot on duty part would fit though. It would seem to set his competence level about where Drakken's usual hires are."_

Suddenly something made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She focused on her hearing, but couldn't hear anything that would account for her tension. She rolled over onto her knees, whipped her cap off her head and let it hang down her back due to her ponytail being threaded through it, and cautiously peered over the wall. As her head rose, she again heard faint voices coming from the patio, but her eyes tracked right, onto Shego.

The pale thief was striding up the walk from her cottage towards the junction. She now wore a diaphanous, knee-length green wrap over a white high-cut one piece swimsuit. Her hair was drawn back into a long ponytail of her own, and appeared dry. Kim frowned, trying to remember just how long it had been since she saw the woman at the beach. _"Bet she has some way to dry her hair faster because of her plasma!" _Then Kim frowned at her mind's digression. She saw that Shego was carrying a colorful drink in a tall glass, a little umbrella and a long straw protruding from it, and a slice of lime on the rim. The woman sipped at it as she passed from Kim's sight briefly behind the cluster of palm trees. Kim was able to discern movement through small gaps though, and was assured that Shego was indeed turning to ascend the walk towards the patio even before she came back into Kim's view.

As the thief made the turn at the top that took her again out of Kim's sight, the girl resumed her seated position, back again against the wall. Looking again at the unconscious guard, she began to open a pouch on her utility belt, intending to restrain the guard after all. But then her eyes lit on something. Something flat and leather covered, protruding a half inch or so from his back pants pocket. Her eyes shifted to his hip pocket, where something she was certain was a wallet made a bulge. Then, with a sense of foreboding, she reached out and tugged the item from the back pocket.

It was an ID folder in plain black leather. She held it unopened for nearly a minute, then set her mouth in a grim line and flipped it open. After a moment, her eyes closed, and she deliberately banged her head against the wall behind her hard enough to hurt.

According to the ID, the man she'd just knocked out was a member of the Isle Drakkon Constabulary.....

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Erich Kummetz looked up sharply when Jailer Dumas burst into the house, a towering rage plain on his face. Liam flexed his left hand, frowning as he looked up from where he was sitting in a battered rattan chair, reading a Gothic horror novel. He was frustrated at the continued absence of his favorite gun. Three more mercs were present, and the sound of the door slamming open would cause the rapid appearance of more.

"We have missed a great opportunity!" Dumas shouted, "I have just learned that Henry Lucas is at Doctor Drakken's home!" He walked over to the table where the planning had been conducted and and slammed both hands down flat on it, chest heaving and eyes almost bulging.

Kummetz blinked rapidly as he processed the information, considered it in light of their plans, including the one's Dumas didn't know about. Then he gave a shrug. "So what?" Dumas' head swiveled as his eyes fixed on Kummetz, angry words bubbling up in his throat. But Kummetz forestalled him. "We cannot accelerate the plan." He said reasonably, "Shego has not been neutralized, for one thing. And what did you intend to do with Lucas? Kill him? We agreed that assassinating him would be a bad idea, remember? Did you want to take him hostage? That would make us terrorists, a label we are trying to avoid, correct?"

Some of the heat went out of Dumas' face as he listened. As Kummetz finished, he made a sharp dismissive gesture. "All true! But, I am still angry we did not hear of this visit sooner! Such a failure to track Lucas' movements could spell disaster when we move to the second stage of our plans!"

Kummetz conceded the point with a nod. "_Ja_, the failure of our intelligence is worrisome, to be sure! And since that is your responsibility, you must decide how to deal with it." He spoke the last in a non-accusatory manner, but Dumas still gave him a suspicious look before nodding.

"You are correct, my friend. I will find out why the information was delayed, and insure it does not happen again! As to the other problems..." He trailed off, then shook his head, "Maybe our first option, to just have an expert sniper kill that woman, would have been best!"

Kummetz sighed, and spread his hands wide. "It was you who were not certain of that course, because you are not sure of the full extent of her powers, remember? In addition, you cannot say with certainty what devices Doctor Drakken may have at his disposal, to avenge her death. We need both of them dead before we can proceed with our plans, we therefore are best served by killing them at the same time."

Dumas nodded again, looking down at the table as if seeing the plans that had lain there in his mind's eye. "As agreed. I am sorry to have gone over the top, and losing my temper, and perspective. At least tomorrow we can get this thing going! The waiting is always the hardest, as they say."

Kummetz saw Liam start to speak, and silenced him with a curt gesture. He knew the objection the man had been about to voice. Well, 'lucky' gun or not, The plan would go forward tomorrow, no matter what. The longer they delayed, the more likely that more complications would occur. As long as the plan decided on went smoothly, or even relatively so, all would be well.

And though Kummetz appreciated the sentiment behind the expression 'always expect the unexpected', he had never found a practical way to plan for the 'unexpected', so he no longer worried excessively about it. And currently, he knew of no factors that would cause a serious alteration in their plans. So, he just tried to remain as flexible as possible, and tried to keep his options open.

And one thing he intended to make sure of, a quick departure from Isle Drakkon as soon as the operation was over, no matter how successfully it turned out. He didn't live in the past, and strongly doubted his employer's belief that no one outside the island would care, or act against them. Even if LeMonde was restored to leadership of the country, Kummetz doubted he'd stay there long.

"_Five days." _he thought, _"If all goes as planned, five days will be the longest I can expect to remain here. Even allowing for the inevitable problems, I doubt I'll still be here in a week's time." _He ceased his musings and turned to Liam. "Please contact our Brazilian friends, and make sure they're ready, if you please."

Liam nodded and rose to head for their improvised communications room. Another merc passed him as he left the main room, and headed straight to Kummetz. "Weather report, Sir!" He handed a sheet of paper to Kummetz. Dumas looked up curiously as Kummetz read the report. The German merc pursed his lips as he read, and his brow wrinkled slightly. "It seems the island may be hit by a tropical storm tomorrow in the afternoon or evening. A relatively mild one, they hope. But, we should be able to carry out the first phase without worrying." He read further down the report, "Oh, and if you care, it's name is 'Kimberly'."

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The back of Kim's head was really sore now, she'd bounced it off the wall four or five times. But the tears in her eyes had little to do with the pain. They represented frustration more than anything else. There was a little shame in them too, because she had considered just running away, reasoning that maybe the constable wouldn't make a report, for fear that his employers would find out he'd been smoking grass on duty. But Kim had angrily quashed the impulse to flee. It not only wasn't right in general, it wasn't right for _her!"_

Now she removed her utility belt, opened her backpack, and put the belt inside. She then went through her pockets, removing all her other gadgets, which she also put in the pack. She hesitated briefly as she held the Kimmunicator, but then shook her head and stuffed it in last, before closing the pack back up. Setting her cap back into it's proper place, she stood up, and slinging her pack onto the top of the wall, she climbed over, then slung her pack over one shoulder, and started up the hill towards the patio.

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Well this was a short chapter. Didn't stop it where I meant to, but I think I would have more then doubled it's length if I had. Anyway, have to prove to some people I can write a short chapter, heh.

Please Read and Review.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I do not own Kim Possible, any of the other characters from that show, or those from any other media I may reference in my stories.**

Shego was irritated. Irritated mostly with herself. She couldn't understand herself, sometimes. Things that had once given her a sense of anticipation rarely did anymore. Things like doing a job for Doctor Drakken, or any other illegal activity. And when she did do them, the sense of satisfaction seemed diminished from what it once was. Not a great deal, but noticeably. At first she had wondered if it was the lack of challenge in her endeavors, but finding and performing more dangerous jobs hadn't brought those feelings back. She did get a thrill during some of the risky acts she sometimes performed, the riskier the better, but she had always gotten _that_ rush, even as a teenager before she got her powers. She had to admit to being something of an adrenaline junkie.

She had certainly felt a sense of anticipation when she had tried to set Kim Possible up, but that had soured as she contemplated the possible consequences. An impulsive act motivated by her annoyance with the girl's persistent inability to accept...well, there was the rub. Shego herself had a hard time believing the whole Isle Drakkon situation. She had been astonished when Doctor D had first proposed it, and had wasted quite a bit of her own time trying to spot a hidden angle or plot. Even now, if Drakkon had revealed that the whole thing was the initial stage of a byzantine plot of some kind, she wouldn't be too shocked. But, and this realization shocked her a bit, she would be disappointed, maybe even...sad?

She had to admit that she was beginning to like having this sanctuary. She had other places she could go, but all of those had complications involved. Bribing people, maintaining expensive security measures, or just plain never feeling entirely able to relax, all of those other places had one or more of those problems to deal with. And maybe that was why Kim Possible's recalcitrant attitude pissed her off so much. She and the Doc were actually being good, but 'Miss Goody-two-shoes' couldn't accept it!

Now the pale thief was pacing back and forth in a limited space, the eight foot section of pathway that had hedges bordering both sides of it, just short of the entrance to the patio. She wasn't invisible to the people gathered there, her feet at least could probably be clearly seen through gaps at the foot of the hedge. She knew Doctor Drakken had seen her, he was seated facing her, and was probably wondering at her behavior. All she was doing was trying to purge herself of the irritation she was feeling before she joined the meeting. Or so she was telling herself.

In truth, she was worried about how their guests would react to her. Not President Lucas or his wife, they had gotten comfortable with her presence in social situations. But their other visitors hadn't, and keeping them happy was important. Shego wondered if she should just go back and take another swim. Wearing her suit this time, of course.

As she sipped at her drink, a telltale noise told her that there was a split in her straw somewhere. Annoyed, she stopped, and plucked the straw out, then began to finish her drink without it. But as she tipped her head back to swallow the last bit, something caused her to cast her eyes to her left. And she found herself looking straight into Kim Possible's green eyes.

As Shego coughed and hacked trying to deal with the drink that had taken a trip down the wrong pipe, Kim regarded her without emotion. After a moment, the girl sighed, and began wearily, "You set this all up from the start, didn't you? That conversation? You knew you were being listened to, didn't you? You wanted me to come down here, right? Make a fool of myself?" Kim's voice began to rise slightly as she went on, but she suddenly clenched her fists, shuddered, then relaxed, and went on, "Well, congratulations, you really did a number on me." She walked straight past the still coughing woman and entered the patio area. The sight that greeted her caused the last hope that she had had any real reason to make this trip to fade.

The patio was large, and made up of flagstones in a mix of reddish and chocolate brown colors. The hedge Kim entered through was matched by another on the north side, approximately forty feet away. To her left, it ran to the house. To her right, it extended about forty feet, where the ground dropped abruptly away. As Kim knew from her reconnaissance, it was a near vertical drop to beach level. A decorative iron railing about three feet high ran between the two hedges to close off the seaward end of the patio.

In the center of it was situated a large round table. Doctor Drakken was staring at her in surprise from one seat. On his left sat a lady Kim recognized from a photo she'd seen as Marguerite Lucas, the First Lady of Isle Drakkon. Next was her husband the President, Henry Lucas, who had also spotted Kim, and had a puzzled frown on his face. Next to him sat a man in uniform. A white tunic with some decoration over blue trousers with a red stripe down the side of the leg, plus a peaked cap in white with a red band. Kim knew she was looking at a policeman, and probably a senior one.

The remaining two people at the table had their backs to Kim, but one had just turned her head to allow Kim to catch sight of a somewhat famous profile. Famous in some circles, anyway. Priscilla Hillsbury, teenage daughter of billionaire hotel magnate Payton Hillsbury. And it wasn't hard to assume that it was her father that sat with his back square to Kim. And that was obviously who Drakken was having the mysterious meeting with. Which meant, of course, that it was almost certainly completely aboveboard.

In addition to the people seated, Kim saw the Asian security man, standing by the sliding glass doors leading inside the house, next to a man dressed identically to those Kim had seen with the cars out front. He had an MP-5 hanging by it's sling from his shoulder. Two similarly dressed and armed men were near the railing in the opposite direction. But right now, the attention of all four standing men was focused on Kim as she came into view, hands taking hold of weapons, but not aiming them at her. Kim also noticed two local women dressed in white blouses and blue slacks standing near a table holding refreshments.

"Kim Possible?" Kim even felt a tug of regret that Drakken's first words were just a soft-spoken question, and not an exclamation of shock. "What are you doing here, may I ask?" The man seated with his back to Kim now turned, and she saw that her assumption had been correct as to his identity. A hawk nose and two bushy eyebrows beneath a receding and graying hairline, but his usual big smile, which he reputedly had on his face whether he was greeting a friend or an enemy, was replaced by a puzzled look.

Having marched thus far with an assured tread, Kim now faltered and stopped. She took a deep breath before answering, "Well, I'm here because I made one mistake, and now I've compounded it into at least three, and I broke the law on the last two." Puzzled looks, with one or two frowns, were the immediate response. If Kim had looked behind her, she would have seen Shego gawking at her in absolute shock. But right now, the teen was just trying to get through this sitch without losing her composure. "You see, I've committed trespassing, and I also assaulted one of your guards."

"What!" That word burst from at least five throats, and Kim had a mad momentary impulse to call 'jinx', which warned her that she was perilously close to losing it. At least from her own perspective.

The policeman had risen to his feet, expression stern, but with a trace of doubt. "You assaulted one of my men?" He asked, and Kim felt a small flutter in her stomach as she replied, "Yes, Sir. But, I didn't know he was a policeman at the time, I thought he was one of Doctor Drakken's henchmen...which was wrong in more ways then one, I never considered...no, I _did_ think he might just be a normal security guard! But when he grabbed me, I just..."

"Just a moment!" the Asian guard interrupted, "You say he just 'grabbed' you? No warning, nothing?"

Kim nodded without hesitation. "Yes Sir, I was too focused on the house, I didn't even hear him come up behind me. I guess I was too wound up to think, and I just went into combat mode, and knocked him out." Kim was tempted to blurt out that the guard had been smoking marijuana, or something similar, but held her tongue. The guard's actions didn't excuse any of hers.

"And where is this guard?" the Asian asked, while looking towards the side of the house Kim had come from, a suspicious look on his face. Kim obliged by pointing back towards where she had left the man unconscious. "He's on the far side of the wall." The man nodded in response, then addressed the policeman, "I'll be right back, after I check on him."

As he left them, Payton Hillsbury spoke up. "Miss Possible, why exactly _are _you here? Do you suspect Mister Lipsky of being up to some evil purpose?"

Kim couldn't help blushing slightly as she shook her head, and replied, "No, Sir. I had information that Drak...Mister Lipsky was having some kind of secret meeting, that required special security, and jumped to a conclusion. Then I acted on it." She licked her lips nervously, "But now it seems the meeting is with you, and President Lucas, and I apologize for the disruption I've caused."

"Well," Hillsbury replied, "The meeting wasn't _that_ secret, though it wasn't publicized extensively, for business reasons! But I still don't understand who would tell you such a thing! Who was your source?" Behind Hillsbury, Drakken's gaze shifted to Shego and his eyes narrowed. Shego, having trouble sorting out what she was seeing, noticed the look and defensively tried to shift into a attitude of indifference, and failed magnificently. Especially when she almost put her hand through one of the hedges while trying to lean on it.

Kim shrugged. "It doesn't really matter, there's no real excuse for my actions! My inability to not suspect the worst with Doc...Mister Lipsky is the real cause of this! I mean, even if there had been something to the information, there were smarter ways to go about this, but..." Her voice trailed off. She couldn't bring herself to say she had been trying to validate her suspicions to those who hadn't taken them seriously in her opinion. Doctor Director especially, but Wade as well, and even Ron to lesser extents.

The policeman walked up to her, settling his cap on his head. "Miss Possible, we haven't met, I'm Chief Constable of Isle Drakkon, James LeClerc." Kim nodded slightly in response, shuffling her feet nervously under his gaze. "Are you confessing to trespass on private property, and assaulting an officer of my command?" He held a hand up as Mrs Lucas started to speak, "Whether or not he had identified himself to her or not, it is still assaulting an Officer, Madame."

Kim squared her shoulders and looked the Chief in the eye. "Yes Sir, I am admitting to having done both of those things." she stated clearly.

"I see." He studied her a moment before continuing, "Then you realize I have no choice but to have you placed under arrest until an investigation is undertaken, and completed?"

Kim nodded. "Yes Sir, I fully understand." She replied politely. She held out her backpack to him. "All my gear is in here, Sir." To her momentary surprise, one of the servers stepped forward and took it from her instead of the Chief. He turned to the woman and told her, "Call a car to come pick Miss Possible up." The woman nodded and moved away from the party before pulling a cellphone out of her pocket and placing the call.

"Miss Possible." Kim turned to face President Lucas as he addressed her. "I think I can understand your actions, but officially, despite my debt to you, I cannot condone them, you understand?"

Kim nodded to him as she politely replied, "Perfectly, Mister President. Again, I'm sorry to have caused this disruption."

"Kimberly." Doctor Drakken spoke for the first time, "Once you knocked out the guard, why didn't you just leave?"

Kim felt a spark of indignation at the question, then realized it wasn't the question that caused it, but the questioner. And that made her wonder, surely Drakken knew what she'd reply, so why did he ask the question? Her response would show her in a better light, after all. Deciding to ponder that puzzle later, Kim replied, "Because it wouldn't have been right to, that's why."

"Or maybe because the guard already saw your face, so he could have identified you anyway?" Priscilla Hillsbury remarked snidely.

Kim didn't bristle at the question, for which she silently thanked Bonnie Rockwaller, for giving her all the experience necessary not to. Instead, she replied reasonably, "He might have, in fact he probably did, though if that was the case, and he's a policeman, why did he sneak up and grab me?"

"An excellent question!" Payton Hillsbury exclaimed. He then turned to Chief LeClerc, while sparing a stern glance for his daughter, who seemed unaffected. "Now see here, Miss Possible is a fine young lady, and seeing as how she has every reason to be suspicious..." he was surprised when Kim interrupted him.

"Mister Hillsbury, I had no authority to do what I've done. I'm a private citizen, after all, and not even a resident of this island. In the past, the places I pursued Mister Lipsky to were either not legally considered his private property, or I had the tacit approval of the local government due to the activities he was conducting at those places. Neither applies here, I'm the one in the wrong, and I broke the law! I believe in justice and have to uphold it, even when it works against me!" Kim didn't add her private thought that something like this was probably inevitable, the way she had been going._ "Would've been nice if I had actually seen it coming, though!"_

"That may be so, young lady, but considering who you are, and all you've done for people, I think you need to be cut a little slack, here!" Hillsbury responded heatedly. Behind his back, his daughter rolled her eyes, then went back to sipping at her drink, seemingly tuning out her surroundings. Kim was momentarily distracted by this. She'd heard from Wade that the girl had been kidnapped the previous fall, though it was only on the level of a rumor as far as the press was concerned. Kim guessed It hadn't been terribly traumatic, or the girl recovered her self-centered persona very quickly.

But now Kim didn't have time to dwell on it. Before anyone else could respond to Payton Hillsbury's statement, she did. "They can't decide how to proceed until they learn all the facts, Sir! Not and be fair to the law. And I want to be judged fairly, and I don't want that judgment affected by any outside pressure or influence on my behalf!" She paused, and inwardly winced before continuing, "I mean, what if I was _meant_ to mess up your meeting here today? What if I was fed this information just so I'd show up and disrupt things?" It was a wonder Kim didn't hear the 'click' as Shego snapped her jaw shut a moment later, having realized it was hanging wide open. A wary look did come into her eyes, as she wondered if Kim was about to name her as the source. But that wasn't what the teen heroine had in mind.

Hillsbury himself suddenly got a shrewd look in his eyes, and nodded. "Well, that's actually possible, young lady," he conceded, "But if you've been set up..."

Kim held up a finger. "_If_ is the key word, Sir! But we don't know if it's true, and I don't want to be given any privileges until the investigation is complete, it wouldn't be right! So, let the police investigate. I trust them to be thorough and fair!" She nodded at Chief LeClerc, who responded with a slight nod of his own.

After a moment, Hillsbury nodded. "Very well, I can see your point, and your determination to do this right, so I won't argue with you. But, I do hope your attitude is taken into consideration, that's all I can say!" With that he resumed his own seat, but looked unhappy.

The President and his wife moved away from the table at her urging, and held a whispered conversation. Drakken sat quietly studying first Kim, who tried not to squirm under his scrutiny, and Shego, who tried to look bored. Priscilla Hillsbury kept casting surreptitious glances at Kim. This went on for the whole eight minutes it took for two constables to arrive to take Kim into custody.

Kim had been a little worried at first when minutes passed without the Asian guard returning, though she thought she heard a faint voice, possibly shouting, coming from that direction. As soon as the two constables arrived, Chief LeClerc headed in that direction as well.

The two constables were methodical and efficient. One patted Kim down while she kept her hands on her head, then handcuffed her. The other informed her of her rights under local law. Priscilla Hillsbury's looked sharply away when the handcuffs came out, and her father scowled mightily. Shego on the other hand couldn't suppress a brief smirk, but it faded as soon as she noticed Drakken looking at her. She abruptly decided she'd had enough socializing for the day, and turned to head back to her cottage. She bumped into the Chief in the entryway, and the two passed each other cautiously, obviously sharing a mutual discomfort.

Both Constables stood at attention when the Chief approached. He nodded, and they stood at ease. "I want you to take Miss Possible to the jail, and book her on charges of assault and trespass. For the moment, that will be felonious in both cases, do you understand?" One Constable's head snapped around to stare at Kim, he hadn't even recognized the girl, and the shocked look on his face proved it. His partner kept his attention on their superior, replying with a crisp "Yes, Sir!"

Kim found herself nearly asking why the charge wasn't 'Assaulting a Police Officer', but decided to keep her mouth shut. In fact she remained silent as she was led around the house to the front drive, where the four men waiting with the cars regarded her curiously as she was assisted into the back of a Police Rover. She noticed immediately that it was a new vehicle, a considerable improvement on the one she'd ridden in on her first visit to Isle Drakkon. The interior was however depressingly the same, with heavy grillwork on all the windows.

Kim deliberately forced herself to study the passing scenery on the way into the city. It kept her mind focused on something else besides the potential consequences of her actions. She noticed some clean-up work in progress, as well as construction work on several new buildings. Though her previous visit had limited her time to really look around, the whole city seemed brighter now then it had then. _"Okay, points to Drakken for putting a better government in office. Provided appearances are as they seem, that is..."_ Kim winced and shook her head sharply. That was the kind of thinking that had gotten her into this mess in the first place!

But, she wondered, where did justified suspicion end, and paranoia begin?

Shortly thereafter she had brief cause to be suspicious again, when the vehicle turned in what Kim knew to be the wrong direction for reaching the jail. But then she remembered that some buildings had been rebuilt or replaced outright, and the jail might have been moved. That proved correct when they pulled up in front of a building bearing the sign 'Isle Drakkon Constabulary Primary Detention Center' carved into a red stone panel besides the main entrance to an otherwise white, two-story building. There was only one large window on the first floor, to the right of the double glass doors that apparently constituted the main entrance. There were several narrow horizontal windows on the second floor however, and Kim suspected that some or all of the cells were on the upper level.

Kim was assisted from the vehicle by one constable, as the other unloaded her possessions from the vehicle's backseat. So far, neither officer had spoken to her, but they had both behaved professionally. One walked on either side of her as they ascended a short flight of steps(Kim also noted a wheelchair ramp), and entered the building.

Just as the exterior of the building in no way resembled the old jail, the interior was also vastly different. To start with, it was air-conditioned. It naturally appeared darker after the transition from the bright sunshine without. On Kim's left as they entered was a wall with three doors in it, two labeled as restrooms, the third as a utility room. To the right ran a long, low counter, with three men seated behind it. The central figure wore sergeant's stripes, while the others also had a rank insignia on their sleeves, but Kim didn't recognize it. All were wearing short-sleeved white shirts, as were her escorts, so Kim assumed they were also wearing the same kind of dark blue trousers with a red stripe down the sides.

Kim had noticed earlier that neither of her escorts was carrying a firearm, but now she saw another Constable standing against the wall behind the counter had a holstered automatic at his waist, and was studying her as she was led in front of the Sergeant's seat as he looked up with a look of professional detachment, but a small scowl began to form as he looked at Kim's face. Then, not hiding his curiosity, he looked at one of the Constables who accompanied her. "What do we have here?"

The Constable stiffened into a brace as he replied. "This young woman trespassed on private property, and committed assault on an individual charged with maintaining security on said property, Sergeant! Chief Constable LeClerc specified the charges against her personally, Sergeant!"

The Sergeant's eyes shifted back and forth between Kim and the Constable, then to the second Constable, before he spoke. "Chief Constable LeClerc is at Mister Lipsky's residence." He stated, then looked at Kim, "And you _are_ Kim Possible, are you not?" Face serious, Kim nodded. Comprehension dawned on the Sergeant's face. "And was the person you assaulted perhaps one Miss Black?" When he saw Kim's puzzled look, he frowned, but then the second of the arresting officers spoke up.

"No, Sergeant! The victim was Martin Geroux!" Now the Sergeant's scowl deepened. "Then the charge will be assaulting an officer of the law?" His voice was stern, but held a note of incredulity.

"No, Sergeant! Martin was off-duty, doing his second job." As the Sergeant began to raise an objection, the Constable continued, "And the Chief Constable was explicit in stating the charge should be Felony Assault, and Felony Trespass, specifically!"

The Sergeant sat back in his chair, expression puzzled. "I see..." he replied slowly, then gave a sharp nod, "So be it! I'm sure the Chief Constable has his reasons, and it is not our place to question them!" He turned to the man seated on his right. "David, will you process Miss Possible's effects? I'll summon one of the duty matrons."

The officer in question gestured to his right, and the two Constables guided Kim around the end of the counter, which Kim now saw had a right-angle extension about a foot or more lower, forming a broad flat table. The Constable with her backpack set it on the table, while his partner removed Kim's handcuffs. David opened a drawer and took out a form and a pencil, which he placed on the table. "Let's inventory your possessions, shall we?"

Kim looked askance at the form, especially the amount of space available to record items on. "I think you'll need more paper then that, Sir." she advised David. He looked at the form, then the backpack, nodded, and took a used legal pad from the drawer. "This should be adequate, no?" Kim studied the amount of paper remaining on the pad, then nodded doubtfully. "I guess." she replied.

Roughly eighty minutes and a third of a full pad later, the other booking officer finished the last entry, while David walked around behind him, flexing his fingers and massaging his wrist. Kim was now seated in a folding metal chair, while the contents of both her pack and her belt were neatly laid out of the table. There didn't seem to be a square inch of bare space left. "And that's all, Miss Possible?" The officer asked, a mix of hope and exasperation in his voice.

Kim nodded, and the officer vented a sigh of relief. It was the first time Kim had ever had to do this, of course. So, to prevent any possible accidents to an officer handling her gear, she had been honest about the functions of each item that they didn't recognize, especially Wade's gadgets, and the officers had dutifully recorded a full description of each individual piece of equipment. She was also concerned that withholding any information of that nature might be seen as her hoping to use some of her gear in an escape attempt.

The Sergeant, who had been observing the inventory process when not distracted by other work, announced "Well, then, it's time to proceed to the next stage in your processing, which will be handled by Matron Grenier."

Kim's eyes widened. "Angelique Grenier? She still works for you guys?"

The Sergeant smiled and nodded. "We had to keep somebody who knew their way around. Mind you, she's not going to be working in the jail forever, she'll be traveling to the US very soon for law enforcement training, to become a regular constable."

"Really? You train your officers in the States?" Kim asked with genuine interest.

"Oh yes," David replied, "Thanks to Mister Lipsky's financial aid, we're taking courses by rotation, four or five officers at a time. Everyone should be fully qualified by the end of the summer, at this rate."

Kim tried to keep her disquiet from her face upon hearing of Drakken's involvement. Then a hand came down on her shoulder, and she looked up into the curious, but smiling, face of Angelique Grenier. This time, the woman was wearing a uniform of short-sleeved white pullover and a navy blue skirt. "I never expected to see you under these circumstances again, Miss Possible."

Kim grimaced before replying emphatically, "The possibility never occurred to me at all!" Then she shrugged. "But, it's my own fault, so let's get on with it." She stood up, but the officer who had completed her inventory stopped her before she turned away.

"Just one thing, Miss Possible..." He gestured at the table, "Could you first help us put it all back where it belongs?" Kim looked at all her stuff, then nodded with a grin. "Sure!" She then began doing just that unassisted, with practiced ease. At least, until she came to her Kimmunicator. She stopped with it in her hand, then looked at the Sergeant. "Um, I'm allowed to make a call, right?"

A questioning look came to the Sergeant's face. "Are you going to call the American Consul?"

"Uh, no." Kim replied, "See, my friends think I'm on a potentially dangerous mission, so if they don't hear from me, I'm not sure what they'll think, or do. So I'd like to call Wade Load, my web master, and let him know I'm all right." She paused, then shrugged with a wan smile, "Relatively speaking." She looked at the Sergeant, barely suppressing the urge to use the dreaded Puppy Dog Pout. "I promise I won't be doing anything other then assuring him that I'm safe, and will let him know my 'plans' tomorrow, after I find out what they are." Her voice caught a bit just at the end.

The Sergeant considered it for nearly a minute, then nodded. "Very Well, Miss Possible, you may make your call as soon as you've been processed, if Chief Constable LeClerc agrees. I'll call him now. And I assume you want the American Consul notified? You might receive legal council through the consulate."

Kim hesitated, then shook her head. "I'd rather you didn't, unless the law requires it. Not until tomorrow, anyway. There might be some people who would feel the need to get involved in my problems, and end up complicating things unnecessarily."

"Aren't you concerned about having your rights protected?" The Sergeant asked curiously.

Kim shook her head. "No, Sir, I trust the system here." She shook her head sadly, "It's my instincts I'm not too sure of anymore..."

Angelique Grenier led Kim upstairs. At the head of the stairs they turned right, stopping at a gate labeled 'Women's Wing'. Angelique used a key card to open the gate, and led a re-handcuffed Kim through. The whole building displayed it's newness, the halls painted white over gray, the color changing halfway up the wall.

An older woman in the same uniform as Angelique was seated at a small desk, watching a portable TV. Angelique waved at her to stay put when she began to rise upon seeing them. "This one's not going to be trouble, Thea, I can handle her alone." Angelique assured the woman. The woman nodded doubtfully, but sat back down.

Angelique led Kim into another small room. This had some of the narrow horizontal windows Kim had seen from outside, high near the ceiling. It's only furnishings were two tables, one against the wall alongside the door with two drawers, and a plain square one in the center of the room. Lighting was supplied by an overhead fixture containing four short fluorescent tubes protected by a heavy cage. Then Kim noticed a video camera high on one wall. "Hmmm, not bothering to drill peepholes this time?" she quipped, trying to conceal her growing nervousness.

"That's for my protection, Kim." Angelique replied. She gestured to a particular spot, below the camera. "You'll stand here as you undress, it should only see your head and shoulders at most. Except for one short instance, I can stand here where the guard at the monitors can see me."

Though she nervously suspected what the answer was, Kim had to ask, "What short instance?"

Angelique smiled ruefully, then turned to the table by the door. "When I worked for the previous regime, I flaunted procedure when it suited me." She opened one drawer and pulled out a box of latex examination gloves. "But now, I follow all procedures to the letter." She set the box down while she took her keys and unlocked Kim's handcuffs. "And I'm afraid you know what that means..."

Kim winced but nodded. "_Spankin_..." she muttered under her breath.

When they were done, Angelique held a towel out to Kim. "I'm thinking you might appreciate a shower." She commented. Kim nodded gratefully as she wrapped the towel around herself. "I certainly can, Thanks!" she replied. Angelique led her back into the corridor and one door down to the shower room. The shower itself was large enough to accommodate maybe a half dozen people at once.

Kim hung up her towel as Angelique turned the shower on. "Give it just moment to warm up, Kim." she advised. She then leaned on the wall, studying Kim's face. "So, want to tell me how come I had this privilege once again?"

Kim rubbed her own arms nervously, odd considering what she and Angelique had just done in the adjoining room. "Well, I got the idea that Doctor Drakken was up to something evil, and came to find out for sure. Trespassed on his property, got caught by one of his guards, and we fought. Then it turns out he was a policeman. An off-duty policeman, working for Doctor Drakken as a security guard, but still a policeman."

As steam began to issue from the shower, Angelique gestured for Kim to step in, before commenting, "Yet the Chief Constable decided not to charge you with assaulting an officer, which I suspect means whoever it was got on the the Chief's bad side somehow." She raised her voice enough for Kim to hear over the shower.

Taking time to think about her reply as she gratefully scrubbed away the effects of her swim in the Caribbean and subsequent exertions in the tropic climate, Kim finally answered truthfully. "Well, I think he was smoking something illegal just before our fight, and his boss found out."

Angelique made a face. "Idiot! What was his name, do you know?"

"The constables who brought me in called him Martin Geroux, I believe." Kim replied as she ducked her head under the spray.

Angelique nodded. "Oh, that one I can believe! You have to understand, almost the entire police force is new, there isn't a single constable held over from the old regime, though some people in the administration branch have been retained." She smiled, "And moi, of course! We've had people transfer from the Customs Bureau, and the Coast Guard, neither of which were as corrupt as the police!" Then she grimaced slightly. "Not that they were _all_ that corrupt, it was just the way things were, you understand?" She walked over to a locked cabinet. Opening it, she took out another towel and some clothing. She studied a spray tank resting on the bottom shelf, then closed the cabinet. "I think we can dispense with the delousing procedure on this occasion, what do you think?" She asked with a faint smile.

Kim stopped wringing her wet hair out to roll her eyes. "Please and Thank You!"

Once Kim had toweled off, and managed to dry her hair to her satisfaction, she dressed in a short-sleeved, short legged white jumpsuit, with 'INMATE' stenciled in black on it's back. "Later, I'll get you some of your own underwear." Angelique told her, "But no bra, sorry. You're allowed to supply your own underwear while you're incarcerated, and anything would be an improvement on what we would issue you otherwise, believe me! You'll have access to the laundry room in the basement to wash all your clothing." She frowned, "I mean if you are with us for very long, I don't mean to imply that your sentence will be imprisonment."

The subject of her fate, which Kim had kept from her thoughts as much as possible since she'd surrendered herself, now rose again into the front of her mind, and her voice caught as she replied, "I don't know how they can just let me go. I mean, they really shouldn't, I don't deserve any special treatment, and I acted so irresponsibly!"

Angelique scowled furiously. "No special treatment! Of course you deserve special treat...consideration! You're Kim Possible! You've saved many, many lives, and helped liberate this island from that _cochon_ in the basement!"

Kim's mind was suddenly in a whirl as she tried to respond. "No, I don't! I should be judged fairly for my actions, no matter what I've done in the past! I'm talking about being just, and fair! The ex-president is in the basement?"

Her abrupt switch from self-denunciation to curiosity caught Angelique a bit off guard, and she stuttered a bit as she replied, "Oui, th..that is where the maximum security prisoners are held. We no longer have a prison outside the capital, just a work camp for minor offenders to live while helping clean things up, and do some of the work projects like planting new trees along the road, flowering trees to beautify things, you know? Anyway, yes, Robert LeMonde is down there, along with the former Deputy Minister of State, and one or two others. The Prison Warden, for one. Dumas should be rotting down there as well, but some friends helped him escape after his little accident."

Kim nodded grimly. "I know about that." Angelique led her back into the hall. Now they entered the cell block proper, which was also of modern design, with electrically operated doors. There were six cells along the right hand side, but Kim reasoned there could be more, as the corridor turned at the end. The windows were high on the wall opposite the cells, and admitted far more light than Kim might have expected from their size. The cells themselves were meant for single occupancy, with one bed, a sink, and a partially shielded toilet.

One of the cells was occupied, by a woman who might have been in her thirties or forties, sitting on her bed reading a newspaper. She looked up as Kim was led into the next cell, and glared at Angelique. "Did you go talk with that disrespectful daughter of mine, Angelique Grenier?" She asked in an imperious voice.

"I did not, Sophie Callard!" Angelique replied sharply.

"And why not, may I ask?" Sophie replied sourly.

"Because I only have thirty minutes for my lunch break, and it would take me twenty minutes to ride out to your home on my bike, that's why!" Angelique snapped back, "And, because I don't have to humor you, either!"

"Humor me! Humor me? You listen to me, Angelique Grenier, when I talk to your mother..."

"My mother will say nothing! She agrees it was about time someone put a stop to your behavior! In fact, she's been over to your home several times to see how your children are doing while you're here."

That made Sophie fly into a rage. "My children! My children need their _mother _to take care of them, not a stranger!"

Angelique's expression hardened. "My mother is no stranger to you, or your children. And in point of fact, your eldest two daughters are taking care of things quite well, just as they promised the Judge they would do, if he finally put you in here, where you belong!"

That only set Sophie off further. "Belong! I don't belong in here, criminals belong in here! I was just protecting my rights, and my children's rights, against that idiot!"

Angelique rolled her eyes, and barely concealed her exasperation as she replied, "Your children entered his yard, after being told not to, and caused damage to his property! The fact that they were nearly hurt in the process was not his fault, and no excuse for you to assault him, or further vandalize his property! You set a bad example for your children, encourage them to act without respect for any rules or law, and your daughters realized it! The _only_ reason you got away with all of your actions for so long was because the old police didn't want to be bothered with domestic problems most of the time, and when they did haul you in, you kept pleading to the Judge that you couldn't be locked up, because you had seven children at home and no husband. Well, that excuse finally turned around and bit you on the ass, didn't it?"

Though still angry, tears appeared in Sophie's eyes as she shouted back. "My girls had no business coming into that courtroom, and telling those things to the judge! That was no respect to me, that was!" She dropped back on her bed, apparently out of steam. "I'm not a bad mother!"

Attracted by the raised voices, the other female matron, Thea, had joined the group. Seeing her, Angelique stepped out of Kim's cell, and called aloud "Close Number Four!" The cell door slid shut smoothly and almost soundlessly, but Kim felt it in her bones, and couldn't help an involuntary shudder, which she tried to disguise by flopping down on the bed.

"Sophie Callard, you behave yourself!" Thea remanded her, "People told you that you'd get in trouble one day if you didn't straighten out, and that day came, despite your arrogance! Now stop trying to have things your way! You are not going to bully your daughters into lying to the judge to try and get yourself free again, you're here for fifty more days, so just try and not do anything to get your sentence extended."

Sophie didn't reply, just appeared to sulk. The older matron turned to Angelique. "Come on, you have some paperwork to fill out, for your trip to the United States, unless you want to be a matron forever?" Angelique gave Kim one last sympathetic look. Kim smiled back, but the smile faded as soon as Angelique was out of sight. Kim felt the mattress she was sitting on. _"Not bad, I guess. Stiff, probably made of material difficult to rip with bare hands." _There was a cover sheet, and a light blanket. The pillow was also middling, better then some she'd napped on. She swung her legs up and laid down, hands behind her head.

She tried to think of something, anything, to continue to hold at bay her feelings of despair at her predicament, but failed. Tears sprung from the corners of her eyes. _"What are Mom and Dad going to think? What's Ron going to think? Oh, NO! They forgot to give me my call!" _The momentary impulse to jump up and shout for Angelique was overwhelmed by a wave of despair, and instead she turned on her side and curled up, and soon began sobbing quietly.

The next thing she knew, she was being shaken awake. Rolling over, she found Angelique bending over her. "Kim, time for dinner, and the Chief Constable has authorized your call to your friend, but it has to be monitored." The young woman's face showed deep concern. Kim wiped at her cheeks and tried to compose herself. She saw that the light through the windows was barely visible now, overwhelmed by the electric lighting inside. _"Lost track of time, I can't believe this is still the same day!" _After a minute or two at the sink washing her face, Kim stepped out of the cell and waited while Angelique let Sophie out as well. The woman was still sullen, but Kim thought she saw a trace of guilt in her eyes when she glanced towards Angelique.

They were led away from the main cell block door to the end of the corridor, which did turn right towards the front of the building. Then turned again when it reached the front, showing another set of cells, back-to-back with the ones on Kim's side, though there were only five on this side, the remaining space taken up by what appeared to be a storage area screened in mesh too thick to see through. Beyond that was another door, and they passed through that into the dining area.

Two young boys in prison coveralls were clearing dishes off the tables, of which there were eight, big enough for about ten people each by normal standards, sixteen to twenty by family reunion standards. The boys carried the dishes through a door on Kim's left. Directly opposite her was a small lunch counter, with three hot bays and a small table holding plastic trays and cutlery. A male guard and the older matron were watching them from a position along the far wall. Sophie made a face. "So, we have to eat after de men again?" She commented sourly.

"Yes," Angelique replied, "You know the routine, Sophie, men and women eat first on alternate days!" She noticed Kim studying the boys, and whispered to her, "Juvenile offenders, of course. Those two spend the days here, but they live at home with their families, because they didn't do anything really bad yet. And hopefully, this will help discourage them from doing so! They don't come in here while the prisoners are here, of course." Kim nodded as the trio approached the counter. Kim didn't feel like eating, but her stomach's reaction to the smell of food made it clear to everyone around her how it felt on the subject. She took up a tray and cutlery, then studied the three courses, inhaling the aromas and feeling her mouth water. "What do we have here?" She asked, pointing at the first pan.

"Red fish," Sophie responded, then pointed to a rice dish in the second pan, "And thats _pelau,_ or maybe you call it pilaf, and that there's _callaloo, _which has taro leaves, okra, and I think some crab meat in it today." Kim could also smell the aroma of garlic as well rising from the vegetable dish. She nodded and smiled in gratitude to Sophie, then ladled helpings of all three offerings on to her tray. She then filled a disposable cup with iced tea, and took a seat at a table that had been cleared. After hesitating briefly, Sophie sat down next to her.

"Listen here," she said as Kim sampled the fish, "What I said earlier? Don't get the wrong idea, I love my girls, I really do, but being in here is makin me antsy, and I guess I blame them a bit f'rit. Should blame myself, but I don' think that way, not a'tall." She took a mouthful of her own food as Kim nodded while chewing industriously.

"I guess I can understand that, though I've never been locked up for very long before. Two days is my record before now, and that's just because I wore the wrong clothes." Seeing Sophie blinking in confusion, Kim snorted, then quickly wiped at her mouth to make sure no food had escaped. "Sorry! Let me explain. I usually have a couple of things hidden in my clothes for missions, but I'd just bought some brand new clothes, and hadn't prepped them yet. Was really steamed when I found out I didn't have anything 'up my sleeve'! In that particular case, I mean it literally."

Kim smiled, but then noticed Sophie still seemed puzzled, in fact more so. Then realization dawned, and Kim blushed. "Oops! I...um, thought you knew who I was, sorry." Kim ducked her head and concentrated on eating, more then a bit embarrassed.

Sophie stared at her for nearly a minute, then her eyes widened. "You _are_ the girl who saved the President, Kim Possible! But why are you in here, you're a heroine, are you not?"

Kim smiled ruefully. "Because I broke the law! Even heroes shouldn't do that, especially when they know they're doing it! Even when they think there's just cause..." her voice trailed off for a moment, then resumed bitterly, "Which I certainly didn't have!"

Sophie frowned. "So what happened, that they'd throw a person like you in jail, may I ask?" Kim hesitated, then began relating the story as she ate. She didn't notice, but Angelique and the other two guards moved closer so they could hear a well. When Kim had finished, They withdrew and began talking quietly among themselves, while Sophie expressed her own opinion. "Listen, girl, I don't think you did wrong! The man did evil in de past, you had to make sure he wasn't doing it again!"

Kim shook her head. "No, Ma'am, that's the problem. I didn't come here to find out _if_ Drakken was up to no good, I came here to _prove_ he was! Even when I saw things that made me think I was wrong, it didn't even make me pull back, as if my brain was reasoning all right, but I wasn't listening to it, really!" She picked at her food, appetite diminished, if not gone entirely. "I should never have been surprised by that guard."

"Call me Sophie, girl. And I know that Martin Geroux, he knows how to hunt things, and be sneaky, so no shame in being caught like that!"

Kim now grimaced. "Yes there was! I knew there was a guard around, my first priority should have been to locate him! That's standard procedure, not to mention sheer common sense! I made so many basic mistakes since I got here, I should ground myself! No, I was obsessed whether I realized or not, and that's bad under any circumstances!"

Sophie opened her mouth, then shut it. She sensed it was fruitless to argue the point at the moment, and besides she might not know enough to be certain of her own advice. But she kept studying the girl as she cleaned her own tray. When Sophie stood up to leave, Kim snapped out of her self-absorption, winced at the food remaining, but reluctantly got to her own feet. She started to take up the tray, but Angelique stopped her. "That's for the boys to do, Kim." Kim hesitated, then nodded and turned away from the table. Angelique stepped forward and took her arm. "Come on, you can make your call now." Kim nodded, still subdued, but her brain was suddenly racing as she tried to decide what she was going to say to Wade.

When she finally had her Kimmunicator in hand, she fidgeted nervously, unable to initiate the call. She looked at Angelique, who was waiting patiently. "Don't know what to tell him. I don't want to lie, but if I try and explain the whole sitch, I don't know how he'll react! I don't want him to tell my parents yet, not until I know how long...oh, snap!" She shook her head angrily, then activated the device. She managed to restore a smile to her face before Wade's image resolved on the screen.

"Hey Kim! Was getting a little worried...why are you wearing white?"

Kim smirked. "Fashion conscious much? Actually, I'm in jail again, but this time I really did something wrong. But before you freak," She hastily added as Wade's eyes widened, "I'm going to see a judge tomorrow morning, to see how much trouble I'm in. Until then, don't say a thing to my parents, or Ron. _Especially _Ron! No idea how much he'll freak, and don't want him doing anything crazy. Oh, and naturally I won't have my Kimmunicator tonight, so he may call you if he can't get in touch with me." Kim delivered all of this in a matter-of-fact manner, trying to behave as normally as possible, and concealing any of the anxiety she felt.

"Ohhhh, that won't be a problem, I think." Wade responded, and with a grin added, "It seems one of the younger campers walked away with Ron's communicator, and now she apparently can't remember where she put it. Last I heard from Ron, by phone, he was trying to restore her memory with ice cream." Wade rolled his eyes.

Kim laughed lightly. "How does he manage? Oh, well, that's my Ron! Anyway, he still might get luck...wait a moment, you should be able to track it, down to a meter, shouldn't you?" Kim asked suspiciously.

Unabashed, Wade continued to grin. "Yep, and as soon as Ron remembers that, and asks, I'll tell him where to find it!"

Kim shook her head. "Evil, Wade, evil! But what If he goes looking in poison ivy, or something crazier, more dangerous? You should tell him, really!"

Wade shrugged good-naturedly. "Yeah, you got a point, he might stumble on a bear, or knowing Ron some kind of evil plot hatching in the woods. I'll call the camp, and get the message to him, right away." Now he became concerned, even suspicious. "But what about you? Are you sure you don't want me to call anyone?"

"I won't even know what to tell them until tomorrow, Wade, so no point bothering anyone yet. Trust me, as soon as I know what I need, you're the first one I'll call!"

Wade nodded, smiling, trust restored. "Okay Kim, will wait to hear from you."

"Please and Thank You! Signing off!" Kim disconnected, and her shoulders immediately sagged, before handing her trusty device to Angelique. "Well, that worked well enough, I hope he forgives me when he hears the truth, though!"

"I have no doubt he will forgive you, unless the stories your friend Mister Stoppable writes exaggerate the bond you three share." Angelique reassured her. "Come along, time to get you situated for the night."

Kim nodded, but her face was sad. "He probably _will_ forgive me, I know that. But I wonder if I should be?" By the time they returned to Kim's cell, the girl was lost in her own brooding, and didn't acknowledge Angelique when she warned "Lights out at ten, back on at six, ladies." The young matron took a last concerned look at the teen heroine, then turned and left the cell block.

From the adjacent cell, Sophie Callard watched the girl. Kim stood stock-still for several minutes, then blinked and looked around, surprised for a moment. Then her shoulders sagged, and she laid down on the bed, facing the wall. Sophie continued to watch, but Kim was motionless. Sophie couldn't tell if the girl had fallen asleep, but decided to let her alone for now. _"I hope dat one doesn't have to stay in here for long. Not a bad jail, but she doesn't deserve to be here a'tall."_

Kim wasn't asleep, but she was close. Her imagination wouldn't let her sleep just yet, as she thought about how people she knew, and even those she didn't, would react to all this. She was going to disappoint _so_ many people! Her parents especially, of course, no matter what the circumstances of her crimes, they had raised her to be better. Ron would never accept that it was right for her to be jailed at all. Her other friends at school, the people who looked up to her...

Not once did Kim consider what effect a long incarceration might have on her, herself before she finally did fall asleep.

00000000000

The airport on Isle Drakkon was not open to regular traffic for twenty-four hours a day. It officially closed down at midnight, or when the last scheduled flight, usually timed to arrive between 11:15 and 11:30, had arrived and it's passengers, if any, processed.

Tonight the same Customs officer who had greeted Kim on her first visit stood behind his remodeled counter. He had a different partner now, the previous one having gone over to the police force in March. The new one was a young woman, slightly on the heavy side, who had yet to settle in properly. Right now, she was at the glass doors facing the apron outside where any arriving planes would disembark their passengers, face pressed against the glass as a large twin-prop commuter plane taxied up.

The senior Customs man knew she was hoping there'd be no one aboard, allowing them all to call it a day. The notion of the plane flying empty may have seemed odd to some, but it had to be on Isle Drakkon to fly passengers back to Trinidad in the morning. Even if it hadn't had reservations, it would have still had to keep to it's parent airline's schedule of flights.

The Customs man already knew there were passengers, however. They had been reported by the pilot before the plane had departed Trinidad, and the man in the tower had passed the word down. But the young Customs woman had yet to learn of that source of information. The older man now watched her shoulders sag slightly as she turned from the door and hurried back to her place with him behind the counter, flashing two fingers to one of the security men across the concourse. All but one of the airline reps had already departed, the last one now beginning to organize their papers. Once the crew reported in, and signed his log, he'd be heading home to bed as well.

The Customs Inspector eyed the clock. It was a quarter to midnight, the flight was late by twenty minutes. Then his gaze was drawn to the doors as the passengers came in, followed by a luggage handler pushing a cart with their bags on it. Something about the two women approaching made the Inspector want to frown, but of course he didn't, instead greeting them with a polite smile.

They were a contrast in appearance. One was tall, easily over six feet, lean but nicely built, with dark brown hair and a deep tan. She was dressed in a fashionable lightweight business suit in pale gray, and had eyes of a similar color, which moved constantly about as she approached, but then focused on the Inspector when she reached the counter.

Her companion shared only the tan. Five feet nothing, she had blond hair in a single braid that went a good foot past her belt, and friendly blue eyes. She was also a bit stocky, and showed notable musculature in a short-sleeved white polo style shirt. She also wore jeans and a pair of blue and white sneakers.

Accepting their passports, the Inspector studied them as he asked the routine questions. "Is your business on Isle Drakkon business or pleasure, and do you have anything to declare?"

"We may have business here," the brunette answered, "But we're not sure yet. If not, then we intend to enjoy ourselves for a week or so before we head home. As to the latter, I have a firearm to declare."

That drew the Inspector's attention from the passport to the woman. "A firearm? And where would it be? What nature of firearm?"

The woman pointed at the luggage car. "It's in a locked gun case, that small one right there. It's a handgun, a custom-made one, given to me as a gift. I carry it with me, it's too valuable to me to leave it at home."

"May I see it, please?" The Inspector asked politely. The security guard had summoned another from the back room, and they both now stood about ten feet behind the two women. The blond gave them a friendly smile as her companion went to the luggage cart and returned with the case to the Customs counter. She produced a key and unlocked the case, turning it around to face the Inspector as she opened it.

He studied it with keen interest. The gun was an automatic pistol, a large one. Three clips rested in niches in the case as well, and the Inspector noted that the weapon itself was not loaded, and had a second lock securing the trigger. The clips were loaded, and he picked one up to study it. "Forty-five ACP. A venerable round, Miss. Do you intend to leave this weapon in it's case while you're here? Our firearms laws are not strict at the moment, but private ownership of guns is very uncommon here. We have only a few policemen who routinely carry firearms, in fact."

The brunette answered with a small smile. "As long as I see no likelihood of becoming involved in a firefight with a large party of armed men, I fully intend to leave it where it is, Inspector."

The answer sounded sincere to his ears, but something nagged at him. The young woman, who couldn't have been thirty yet, seemed forthright, but her choice of words...he couldn't pin down his feelings, and truthfully had no real reason to detain her longer, beyond the standard search of her luggage. "Very well, _mademoiselle, _let us proceed."

The search turned up nothing at all unusual, just clothes and toiletries. The blond chatted amiably with the Customs girl while her bags were searched, while the brunette seemed to be trying hard not to appear bored. But finally they were done.

The Inspector gave both of them one last scrutiny, then smiled and offered the blond her passport. "Miss McCarron, I hope you enjoy your stay." He turned to the brunette and handed her her own passport, "And you as well, Miss Paladin."

**Well, after cutting the last chapter short, I produce one twice as long! This might be a pattern, not sure how much content will be in the next one, before things get tense in the following chapter. I forgot to thank my reviewers at the start of the chapter, and now that I'm in the editor writing this, looking up the names to make sure I list them all...weak excuse. THanks to all my readers and especially my reviewers, I need the encouragement and the input.**

**For now, Please Read and Review.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Kim Possible, any of the other characters from that show, or those from any other media I may reference in my stories.

Kind of disappointed at lack of response to this story. But, would like to thank Robert Teague, King in Yellow, Von Uriken and Yankee Bard for their reviews.

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The hot afternoon sun beat down on Kim's head as she finished tamping the soil tightly around the roots of the young sapling she'd just finished planting, the tenth she'd done since her work shift started. She straightened up and arched her back to relieve the tension, rolling her shoulders as well to get some kinks out. She then adjusted the sweatband around her forehead as she looked at all she had accomplished so far.

The neat row of what would one day be beautiful and colorful flowering trees were set just off the verge of a paved four-lane divided road just on the outskirts of Port Marie, Isle Drakkon's newly renamed capital city. The median was being worked on, to turn it from something more then a bare dirt strip. Curbs were under construction at the moment, the workmen currently on break, gathered in the shade of a stand of trees on the far side of the road.

Kim wiped the dirt off her hands on a small rag she kept in one pocket. Being dressed in white made it impossible not to notice the results of her labors, but Kim tried to keep her uniform as clean as possible. The short-sleeved white coverall she'd been wearing ever since her sentencing was what she wore now, along with sandals...and an ankle monitor with a built-in taser.

Thinking of that caused her to look at the young constable who was supervising her. He was dressed in the normal white-over-blue uniform, with the remote trigger for the anklet hanging from his belt. Kim saw that he was chatting with a pretty local girl in a tight halter and very short shorts. He was showing her the remote, in fact, probably explaining it's functions.

"No wool-gathering, Princess!" Shego's voice startled her, and she quickly looked for the thief. The ground sloped up slightly from the road, and Kim spotted her nemesis at the top of the slope, about thirty feet away. She was reclining on a pool chair, with a iced drink in a tall glass on a small stand beside her, and a large colorful umbrella shading her from the sun. "Got to work off all that guilt, Kimmie, no slacking now!"

Kim made a face, but then moved towards the next hole. It had been started, but she needed to finish it with a large trowel. As she knelt down, Shego's called to her again. "You know you put yourself in this mess, Kimmie. That little bit of bait I dangled just shouldn't have been enough to cause all this misery for you."

"It's not misery, Shego!" Kim snapped back. She then quickly checked her guard to make sure he didn't misjudge her outburst, and frowned worriedly when she saw he'd removed the remote from his belt. But he wasn't paying attention to Kim, just showing the remote to the girl.

"Kinda dangerous fooling around with that kind of thing, isn't it, Kimmie?" Shego continued to taunt her, "Kinda dangerous to wear one of those things, too. Got to make sure you put the right one on in the morning, for instance." Puzzled, Kim looked at the thief just as she picked her drink up. On the stand, previously concealed by it, was another anklet, the same kind Kim was wearing....

Kim looked down sharply at the one on her own ankle, and immediately saw that it was a very crude lash-up, not what she should have had on, with odd wires sticking out at various places, and crude soldering. As she stared at it in shock, Shego's mocking voice came again. "Oh, and that agreement with the judge to keep this all off the record if you cooperated, and let you tell your parents you were spending the summer here to help with hurricane relief? That's so you, Possible! In fact, I thought it deserved to be memorialized, so I invited some fans of yours." Kim looked at Shego, then to her left, where the thief was pointing. A large crowd of tourists were standing about forty feet away, taking pictures of her and shooting videos, big smiles on their faces.

"_No! Mom and Dad will know I lied to them!"_ Despite that horrifying thought, her attention returned to her ankle monitor. She then looked desparately at her guard, to find that he had handed the remote to the giggling girl, who was waving it loosely around as she talked to him.

Kim couldn't talk, suddenly, and looked frantically at Shego, to find that she was now surrounded by tall transparent panels. The thief sipped her drink and waved at the frantic teen. Kim looked at the tourists, just in time to see a burly man in a beret with an impressive mustache and a taller, ginger-haired man in a fedora finish placing similar panels between Kim and them as they continued to take pictures. Now looking frantically at the guard and girl, she saw the latter make a sharp gesture, and the remote flew out of her hand...

….and Kim woke up. Again. She barely repressed a howl of frustration, somehow remembering she had a sleeping neighbor. Instead she pounded the mattress briefly with both fists, before making an effort to relax. She looked out through the bars to try and determine what time it was. The cell block wasn't completely dark, there were lights at both ends of the corridor. But the windows outside still showed no light, and Kim sighed in frustration. _"That's four nightmares already, and dawn isn't even here, yet!"_

She was soaked in perspiration, despite the air conditioning, and now realized she had another reason for waking up. Tossing off the blanket, she got out of bed and moved to the toilet. The partitions around it only came to her waist, and the toilet was in full view if one stood outside the bars, to one side of the door. And wearing a one-piece outfit with nothing underneath it yet proved another great discomfort, especially when her still damp skin was exposed to both the air-conditioned air, and the cold seat.

Sitting there, she tried to distract herself from her discomfort by reviewing her nightmares. _"Well, Shego wasn't the warden this time, with Bonnie as head guard. And I wasn't stuck in jail with the whole cast of _True Life:Caribbean Cruise,_ with all the girls forced to wear dental floss bikinis! Drakken didn't take over the world while I was locked up, nor did I have to listen to Mister Barkin's lecture on civic responsibility. All in all, this last one is only the second, maybe third worse tonight. But if I don't get some sleep, I'm going to be in sad shape when I go to court tomorrow!" _Then she snorted aloud, and quickly glanced at Sophie's sleeping form to make sure she hadn't disturbed the woman. There was no sign of that, so she returned to her musings _"Well, it seems all the research I did on Isle Drakkon went to some use, it made the last dream more authentic!"_

Finished, she returned to her bunk. The mattress was damp, and so was her coverall. Four nightmares had drawn a lot of fluid out of her. She thought about taking the coverall off and sleeping on it, to dry it with her body heat before putting it back on. She'd done something similar once, but the circumstances were different. With the mattress damp as well, it might not work as well this time. She decided that this time her body heat would work better with the garment on, and the blanket over her. Not to mention the possible weird impression she'd make on whoever woke her up if they found her sleeping in the nude. And her own embarrassment, of course.

Curling up once she was lying down again, she tried to position herself closer to the edge of the bunk, where it was drier. In a few minutes her eyes fluttered and closed. Within a few more minutes, her mind was in another place, with a sickening aroma, and the sounds of whips cracking...

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In a room at the Hotel Dural, Samantha McCarron sat on a disheveled double bed, her long blond hair trailing across her body, a pair of reading glasses perched on her nose as she read through the tourist packet on Isle Drakkon which was supplied to all the rooms. Ignoring the listings of restaurants and other useful sites, she instead concentrated on the capsule history of the island, and the map showing various spots of interest. She was remarkably alert considering the little sleep she'd had. The rushed trip from New Mexico, ending with catching the last flight into Isle Drakkon the night before had been tiring, but hardly unusual, considering her and her partner's profession.

Steam drifted out of the bathroom doorway as said partner finished her shower, and her voice drifted out to Sam. "All in all, I'm not seeing any signs to justify any concern, Sam. Of course, you never do see a big sign at the airport: 'Corrupt Regime here, please take precautions', but this place doesn't have that feel, honestly!" She now appeared in the doorway, toweling her hair. "Admittedly, I've been wrong before, and more than once! And I also admit to not having much experience with 'supervillains' and all that...." Her voice cut off abruptly as she realized Sam wasn't paying attention. To her words, that is. The blond's eyes were instead fixed on her lover's nude body, jaw hanging slightly ajar. "Sam!" Jen spun around and returned to the bathroom. "After two years...really!'

Sam snapped alert. "Wha...after two years, what? I happen to be a healthy lesbian adult who _happens_ to be in love with you! And there you stand, all six-two, thirty-six, twenty-six, 'don't-go-there'; and you don't expect a reaction? I mean, after two years, most lovers would be glad to know..."

"Okay, Okay! I get it, Sam!" Jen reappeared with a towel on, but not tucked in, just held in place by one arm. "I'm sorry, but I forget sometimes that I can concentrate on business under practically any circumstances, but others can't. Didn't mean to get mad, but you know me. And why aren't you dressed yet, may I ask? You did get the shower first, to make up for your leisurely pace at getting ready!"

"Oh, really?" Sam cocked one eyebrow at her partner, "Well, I actually thought about getting my hair braided first, before dressing."

Jen gave her a wary look. "Sam, we don't have time for any fun, we need to do too many things before the courthouse opens. We really need to get going." She gestured towards the balcony door, where the light was getting stronger. "Sun's nearly up."

Sam made a face, but nodded. "I know, I know. Don't worry, if you don't start anything, I won't!" That remark actually made Jen more suspicious as she watched her partner take a kneeling position on the bed, and sweep her hair behind her shoulders. Then sighing resignedly, she dropped her towel and assumed a similar position behind Sam, and took her lover's hair in hand, organizing it for braiding.

"How are we doing on monitoring Kim Possible's status?" Jen asked as she worked. Sam had used their laptop to contact some of their friends while Jen was showering, just as Jen had done some work of her own while Sam had been in the bathroom.

"Jail has a video monitoring system, that screwball in Florida has hacked it for us. Can't see in the cells though, they only cover the corridor outside. But he checked the log, and unless it's been altered, Kim's still inside. He also said something about a recording of her strip-search, and Jen, he sounded a bit _too_ disappointed that nothing 'hot' showed. We need a better hacker."

"We need a hacker with better morals, you mean." Jen corrected her, "But all the good ones are taken." Then muttered as an afterthought, "Or too young for our work."

Sam hesitated, then nodded agreement. "Well, anyway, if nobody's playing dirty with Kim Possible, do we really get to stay here for a week?" She asked hopefully.

Jen shrugged. "If nothing else comes up, sure." She finished her work in silence, and resisted the impulse to slap Sam on the backside, instead simply announcing, "All done! Now get some clothes on, and let's see if we can get some breakfast before we head out." The brunette mercenary returned to the bathroom to finish up.

Sam climbed off the bed, and headed for her open suitcase. She glanced at the brochures scattered on her side of the bed, and made a face. "Only problem, they don't even allow topless bathing here, let alone having a decent nude beach." She muttered.

"Did you say something, Sam?" Came from the bathroom.

"Oh, No. Just thinking there would be one or two things that might make even this little paradise a bit more beautiful."

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Shego broke the surface of the water a hundred feet from the beach, drawing in a long deep breath as she did. She cast her gaze towards Drakken's house perched high above the beach and scowled. _"So much for underwater meditation! Still don't know what to say to the Doc! Not the least bit sure I need to say anything!" _She began lazily stroking towards the sand. _"All that really matters is I put one over on the cheerleader, and got her good!" _She held up as her toes touched the sandy bottom. Looking out to sea, she considered another trip out, because she obviously was still conflicted. _"Except...why did she have to get all noble? I don't want her in jail, guilty or not, I want her grounded, sitting at home where I can send her a message now and then, 'Having wonderful crime...Gah! _That_ wasn't funny the first time I heard it! I can't taunt her if she's in jail, I just...why not? What's more funny then the shoe being on the other foot?"_

Sunlight peeked over the treetops and shone across the surf. _"Hmmm, better get out before Doc comes out to breakfast. He's been doing it earlier and earlier when we stay down here." _She swam farther in until she could stand up, sweeping her hair back with both hands and starting to wring some of the seawater out of it. _"Wonder how Kimmie dealt with her first night in jail? Bet she __had nightmares, hope I was in all of them!" _She smirked briefly, then her look soured slightly. _"Then why does it feel so wrong to think of her in jail? It's not as __if the jail here is like the ones back home. Maybe I'm just sore because things __didn't go like I wanted. Or thought I wanted, whatever!"_

She crossed the beach to the veranda of her cottage, where she took up a towel and began to dry off. Her actions began vigorously, but slowed down as a thoughtful look crossed her face. _"Doc once asked me to imagine a world without Kim Possible. And I made some wiseass remark about that being paradise. And he replied, 'For us, perhaps, but what about the rest of the world? Or, would there even be a world?' I didn't get it then, but now...people say Kimmie has saved the world, I always thought they exaggerated, Doc's schemes, even when he was trying to be a raving megalomaniac, never came close to being that big a threat. Were there others, though, that Kimmie stopped?" _She continued to dwell on this question for several minutes, before abruptly realizing she'd stopped toweling off, and could feel the salt drying on her skin. Shaking her head angrily, she opened the door and entered the house.

A hundred yards away two men lay flat in the brush bordering the beach, having watched Shego during her swim. They were two of Kummetz's hand-chosen mercenaries, one named Colter, a brutish but surprisingly stealthy ex-Londoner who had been booted from the Royal Marines, and the other Pine, who was currently wanted by the US Army for desertion, and suspicion of 'fragging' his superior officer in Afghanistan. His skills were more logistically based, though he was a competent fighter.

"Boyo, how can you look at a body like that and not hope to get some?" Colter remarked quietly. Pine looked at him dubiously. "Get some of that? Not me, I'd rather not have my privates cooked off, Thanks."

Colter shook his head sadly. "After that stuff hits her, there won't be any problem, and I'm just saying, it would be a shame not to enjoy ourselves a bit before we finish her."

Pine's look turned to a mix of incredulity and disgust. "One: we don't know how long that 'stuff' will effect her, want to risk it wearing off when you're in the middle of something? Second, Kummetz doesn't approve of rape, unless it can achieve a specific purpose, and he doesn't shy from putting a round between a disobedient subordinate's eyes when the occasion calls for it."

"Yeah?" Colter replied sarcastically, "Well, he's getting his, isn't he? With that big fag Liam? The guy who doesn't want to start this fight without his 'precious', big ass gun?"

"Hopefully that damn thing arrived last night!" Pine commented angrily, "But whether or not it did, this op is happening today, before that big storm hits!"

Colter looked up at the visible sky, scanning the western horizon. "No sign of it yet." He commented.

Pine snorted. "It's coming in from the Atlantic, which means from the East." Pine made an emphatic gesture in that direction, then abruptly froze, before slowly turning his head to look towards the cottage. "Damn it! Look what you almost made me do! All we'd need is to let her know we're watching!"

Now it was Colter's turn to snort. "Don't blame me, boyo, you're the one who can't keep his hands still." He paused thoughtfully, then added, "What if the storm hits before we start phase two? Can we pull it off in the middle of a hurricane?"

"Tropical Storm, not hurricane, knock wood!" Pine replied, and rapped on his own head. It was an old joke that he no longer expected to get a reaction, but did out of a force of habit. "We'd have to, we can't give the government time to react to the deaths of Drakken and Shego. They still have an army, even if it's smaller then before. They've improved the quality, from what I've heard, while decreasing the quantity."

Colter shrugged. "Whatever. I still think that body is just too good to waste, though." Pine didn't reply, merely rolled his eyes and went back to watching the cottage.

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"_All right, prisoners, listen up! If you do not make your quota of crushed rock by the end of the day, prisoner Possible will be transferred to the kitchen!"_ 'Warden' Barkin's voice faded as Kim snapped awake, this time woken by the sound of the cell block door opening. She groaned. _"Lucky seven! My last nightmare of the night, now to see if this day turns into one as well!"_ She sat up and got to her feet as Angelique and Thea both came into view, Angelique carrying a bundle of clothing.

They opened the cell door and entered. "Going to let you clean up before breakfast, Kimberly." Angelique told her, "Then you'll be taken to the courthouse. I got these clothes from your bag." She placed the bundle on the bunk, then lifted the top garment. It was a pale blue T-Shirt with the legend, **'I went to Isle Drakkon and...as long as I have this to remind me, I **_**will**_** be going back!'**. The young matron smiled, "I see you came prepared, great for court dates!" Also in the stack were a pair of capris and fresh underwear.

Kim rolled her eyes and grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, those were my 'exit' clothes. If nothing happened, why attract attention by leaving town in my mission clothes?"

Angelique's face sobered immediately. "Ah, that brings up another subject. How you _arrived_ on Isle Drakkon, and why there's no record of it?"

Kim's face fell, and she barely resisted facepalming. "Oh, Snap! How did I forget?" She dropped back onto her bunk. "I was---I meant to---Oh, I messed up this mission so bad, I deserve to be jailed, grounded, and forced to attend any Karaoke performances Drakken gives from now until one of us dies!" The last reference caused the two matrons to exchange bemused looks. Neither decided to inquire as to the meaning, however, preferring to get on with business. "Want to get Sophie up, too?" Thea asked Angelique.

"As if all dis noise hadn't already woke me up?" The woman groused sourly as she sat up in her own cell. Both matrons rolled their eyes, and Thea called for Sophie's cell to be opened, too. The quartet then proceeded to the shower room.

Kim tried not to stare, but she noticed Sophie had a couple of scars, a nasty one across her upper back, and another on her left buttock. The latter looked like a burn scar. The woman was a bit chunky, but looked strong, and definitely showed signs of her maternity. She was also sparing of the soap, and out of the shower much quicker then Kim.

She then dressed in a full version of the prison uniform, a T-Shirt, underwear so baggy it made Kim wince at the prospect of getting a pair of her own, the coveralls, and sandals. Kim kept her hair clear of the spray, but was otherwise thorough, though she found herself missing her own bodywash and other items.

Out, dry, and dressed, she was escorted by Angelique to the dining room again, Sophie and Thea having gone first. Angelique seemed to want to ask something, but held back. Kim noted that they had always had a somewhat reserved relationship.

The first meeting, where Angelique had 'protected' Kim, but may have done so to set Dumas up for a literal fall. Then the escape, where Angelique had not shown much interest in Kim's escape attempt, display no more than amused indifference until Kim had said she'd be taking the two men with her.

She'd been friendly since Kim's current incarceration had begun, but also professional. Neither she nor Thea had shown any inclination to intimidate their prisoners that Kim had witnessed. Kim didn't have a lot of experience with prison matrons, but Isle Drakkon didn't seem the kind of place to produce a particularly hardened example of the breed. Now she wondered what Angelique might be holding back, though she suspected the reticence was based on professional conduct.

Breakfast choices were scrambled eggs, ham, and fresh fruit. Kim took some of each, though only a small portion of ham, and took her tray over to sit by Sophie, who initially scowled at her, then blushed and looked down at her food as she chewed. After swallowing, she mumbled, "Don' mind me, always have a shit attitude in the mornin'." Then she cleared her throat, "Sorry for de language, I don' talk this way in front of my kids, shouldn't in front of you, neither."

Kim smiled. "Don't worry about it, I've heard worse, and in a lot of different languages! In fact, those are the only words I know in some languages!" She blushed slightly, "Another benefit of my career I'd rather my Dad didn't know about!"

"And yer boyfriend?" Sophie asked between mouthfuls.

"Ron? Not really my boyfriend, Sophie. Not in real life, anyway. Best friend, together forever, a soul mate of a different kind, all those things, but not a boyfriend. He's got my back, and we've looked out for each other since we were six, sort of." She smiled fondly, "Even in the 'romantic' area! He's given me the heads-up a couple of times on guys who were interested in me, or me them. And I returned the favor, though I have to admit I had more trouble doing it, especially if it was based on gossip about a girl."

"Well, I don't want my girls getting that serious too young, like I did." Sophie replied sourly, "I was married and a mother at sixteen, had three kids before I was twenty, the rest, including twins, by twenty-five. Then my husband got cut up." Seeing Kim's appalled look, she shook her head. "He was a fisherman, stayed out two or three days at a time. Seems he spent some of dat time with another 'wife' on another island. Four kids there. And then he got mixed up with some crazy teen girl over there dat wanted him all for herself. She tried cutting up his wife, ended up getting him instead! He lived, but that was it for him, far as I care! Then last year, he disappeared overboard, according to his mates, but they couldn't look me in the eye when they said it. Good riddance, however it is!"

Sophie went silent after that and just ate. Kim couldn't think of anything to say, so she remained silent and finished her own breakfast. When she had finished, she hesitated, then patted the older woman on the shoulder before rising.

Angelique led Kim downstairs. Kim was a little confused by the lack of precautions once she was out of the cell block. No handcuffs, for instance. Then she was distracted by four male guards carrying trays of food towards the rear of the building, before turning and descending a flight of stairs. Seeing her notice them, Angelique whispered in her ear, "Feeding the men in maximum confinement, including Robert LeMonde."

They entered the reception area, where a different set of officers were manning the desk. There was also a sergeant chatting with them who looked up as Kim was brought in. He looked to be ethnic Chinese, and studied Kim impassively. "This is Sergeant Li, he will be taking you to see the judge." Angelique told her. The Sergeant nodded stiffly, then indicated that Kim should precede him through the front door. Kim was now seriously confused at their casual treatment of her. She knew they couldn't be underestimating her, and this was no way to treat a potentially dangerous prisoner, no matter how well behaved she'd been so far.

She was even more confused when the Sergeant held the door for her on a normal police car. The front passenger door! He then went around to take the driver's seat. Kim didn't say anything, despite nearly bursting. She actually wanted to both ask why she was being handled so carelessly, and simultaneously chastise the Sergeant for doing so. But instead, she merely buckled her seatbelt.

One obvious possibility did occur to her, but she couldn't credit it.

The drive was short, the windows kept open to allow a breeze on the already hot morning, and they soon found themselves approaching the courthouse. It was being refurbished, and Kim spotted some workmen erecting a scaffold on one side of the building. She frowned when the Sergeant passed the main entrance and instead pulled around to a quieter side of the building, with one small parking lot, all slots marked with signs 'For Official Use Only'. They pulled into an empty one.

Km waited for the Sergeant to let her out, and stood looking at the entrance. Now the Sergeant took her by the elbow and guided her towards the door. Two workmen carrying pails of paint were heading in as well. One stopped to hold the door for Kim and the Sergeant, giving them both a friendly smile.

The inside of the building was much cooler. A wide corridor lined with offices stretched ahead of them, the floor made up of smoothed and polished flagstone. Only a few people were bustling about, a few looking curiously at Kim. Either the coolness of the building or the looks caused a shiver to pass through Kim, as goosebumps covered her bare arms.

A short walk up the hall, the Sergeant guided her to the left, where a small cage elevator was set inside an alcove. Kim was now convinced that they were keeping her from being seen as much as possible, a conclusion also being reached by Sam McCarron, who had been following them since they left the jail, and now continued past the alcove, since it was obvious the elevator was not for public use.

Exiting the elevator above, Kim was led down another corridor to an office with a brass plaque on the door reading 'Chief Magistrate's Office'. Now Kim was becoming apprehensive. Why wasn't she appearing in court? Of course, the fact she hadn't been afforded an opportunity to speak with counsel indicated something odd was up, but since she intended to plead guilty, she hadn't been bothered by it as much as she probably should have.

A smartly-dressed, middle-aged woman looked up as they entered, and immediately nodded to the Sergeant. "His Honor has been expecting you, I'll tell him you're here. And, thank you for being on time, he has a busy schedule today." She spoke to the Sergeant at first, but then seemed to direct the last words at Kim, who found herself fidgeting guiltily, though she wasn't sure why.

The door to the inner office also bore a plaque, 'H. Baronne'. The name wasn't a total surprise to Kim, but she did wonder how personal the man might be making things, seeing her himself. After a quiet conversation on the internal phone, the secretary nodded to them. "You may both go in,now."

Kim, who hadn't exactly been slouching, found herself self-consciously straightening up and setting her shoulders as she passed through the door. The office beyond was large and roomy, two walls lined with bookshelves filled to capacity, and one having two large windows with flower boxes in front of them. Henri Baronne sat behind his desk, his back to the fourth wall. A framed oil painting, a landscape, probably of the capital at a much earlier time, hung on the wall behind him.

He regarded Kim coolly as she walked to a spot in front of his desk, his face impassive. He gestured for her to sit in one of the padded chairs arranged in front of the desk, and she complied, nodding gratefully. Sergeant Li remained by the door, another odd thing to do when escorting a prisoner into the presence of such an important man, but Kim was past thinking about those things, she was only interested in the face of the man who would pronounce her immediate fate, and future.

After a moment, Baronne leaned forwards and clasped his hands together on his desk's blotter, looking Kim in the eye. "Firstly, Miss Possible, I truly wish I could be happy to see you again, but these circumstances obviously preclude that." Kim bobbed her head nervously in response. "Secondly, I would like to say how personally disappointed I am at your behavior, you showed a great deal of maturity and creditable judgment on your last visit here, both of which appear to be absent this time." Kim now blushed and cast her eyes down, nodding in agreement.

Now Baronne leaned back and studied Kim again, before resuming, "And you have given me quite a dilemma, and a moral conflict. Justice, which I hold sacred, against practical necessity, which I am forced to give priority to." Kim now looked up, puzzled, though she had a notion where the conversation was headed, and it made her uneasy.

"To start with the resolution, then return to the reasons, I am hereby informing you that no prosecution or punishment will be incurred by you." Kim blinked rapidly, and opened her mouth to speak, but Baronne forestalled her with a raised hand. "Let me finish, and then you may speak." Kim subsided reluctantly with an acknowledging nod.

"On the first charge, where I have complete discretion, the illegal entry into this country. Well, many Caribbean islands have to be flexible at times about such things. People get dropped off boats at one of the smaller villages, or private homes, and register their entry later. I could therefore assume you had every intent to do so yourself, if I wished." He explained calmly. Then his voice deepened with disapproval. "Or, if it is necessary to justify not prosecuting you for it." Kim's head dropped again, and she clasped her hands in her lap, blushing faintly.

"On the second charge, trespass on private property." He paused until Kim looked up again to meet his eyes, "Mister Lipsky has declined to press any charges, most probably due to not wishing to upset Mister Hillsbury, who's business could be greatly beneficial to Isle Drakkon, and who has taken a personal interest in this matter." He again forestalled an interruption from Kim, "And no, I do not believe you encouraged such interest, based on what the President told me of yesterday's incident. Nonetheless, he has taken an interest, to the point of asking two people involved in the rescue of his daughter from her kidnappers to come here, and be prepared to act in your interests if it becomes necessary." Now Kim truly looked puzzled, and Baronne briefly smiled. "Which we only know of by chance, and I truly believe you were unaware of. Though I admit to feeling slightly insulted, I can understand his concern. We are a new government, and we have some odd associates, to say the least."

He grew serious again. "As to the third charge, that is more complicated. I agree to some extent with the Chief Constable's decision not to charge you with assaulting an officer of the law, but not completely. He admits he partially made that decision due to the man's own actions contrary to normal procedure, both of the Police Force, and the security job he was employed on at the time. I think both of those points are valid. The fact that the officer faces disciplinary action due to drug use, however, should not affect the specified charge, however. But, the charge has been made." He paused, and his disapproval was clear in his voice again as he added, "Not that it makes any difference now."

He studied Kim's conflicted look for a moment, noting a lack of any relief at what she now knew the judge would say. Instead, her entire attitude seemed to be one of unhappiness. He considered that partly to be due to her youthful naiveté. She didn't know what she was missing. He decided that even if she knew what would have been in store for her, she would have acted no differently insofar as facing her judgment, but would show some relief at her delivery from the consequences.

"As I stated, you will not be charged on any of these counts. The reasons have nothing to do with justice, but practicality. Isle Drakkon doesn't want to be known as the country that imprisoned Kim Possible, especially over charges involving Drew Lipsky. The public will wonder, with admittedly some justification, whether it's some kind of 'Evil plot'."

"I could make a public statement!" Kim cut in, "On TV, or whatever, stating that I'm guilty of the charges you make against me, and accept whatever sentence you give me...except that's wrong too, it's pretentious." She finished dejectedly.

"Not at all, Miss Possible. At least in your case, I would think that would be a wise idea. I don't like the necessity, but do recognize it. However, that still won't do." Kim's face screwed up in a frown, as he elaborated, "You see, it's not just the public image projected in the media that matters. Even if we incarcerate you justly, it will still not sit well with people. And if they are planning a vacation in this part of the world, it will be in the back of their head, no matter what we say, that this is the country where you went to jail. And there will still be nagging doubts. Right now, we need to boost the tourist industry more than anything, to achieve financial solvency on our own, while resisting temptation to accept 'aid' from outside sources under circumstances that may not favor us."

"But..it's just not right!" Kim protested, "I mean, it's a miscarriage of justice, and you're telling me that I'm the cause of it!" Though she was projecting anger, Baronne sensed dismay underlying her tone.

"You don't want to go to jail, do you, Miss Possible?" He asked.

Kim actually seemed surprised a second, then shook her head vehemently. "No, of course I don't want to be imprisoned! But how many people who break the law do? And I did break the laws, at least three times! And I don't deserve special consideration because of who I am!"

"Yet you are receiving it, Miss Possible." He replied reasonably, "But not in the interests of your welfare, but the welfare of this country. We are barely stable here, as yet, and vulnerable to many pitfalls that can unseat our fledgling government. And that is the only reason you are being set free, I assure you."

Kim slumped in her chair, eyes downcast. "That doesn't assure me at all!" After a moment, she looked up suddenly. "What about the police? How do they feel about me assaulting one of their own."

Baronne shook his head. "Unfortunately they mostly believe that Constable Geroux both deserved, and even needed, what he received. I do not approve of this attitude, and neither does Chief Constable LeClerc. Unless the officer in question has committed a grievous crime, they should consider him one of their comrades, and a representative of the same law and order they are meant to uphold. They should not so casually dismiss an offense against that law. And perhaps that is one of the reasons I most regret not sentencing you to some form of punishment."

He stood up and walked around the desk as Kim replied, "And you're right to feel that way! I mean, they can't approve of something like this just because of their personal feelings! And you of course shouldn't!"

Baronne leaned one hip on his desk and regarded her. "Yet I do, because I'm human, and I owe you a debt, my very life. I assure you that did not affect my decision however." He paused, then smiled, "But it does alleviate my disappointment at the outcome of this matter slightly." He glanced at his desk clock. "I'm afraid I don't have any more time to spare now, Miss Possible." Sergeant Li stepped forward from the door.

"Can't you at least give me community service obligations?" Kim asked plaintively as she rose to her own feet.

Momentarily surprised, Baronne smiled gently and shook his head. "You are not a resident, Miss Possible, where would you stay? Not the jail, certainly! Even if we have no overcrowding problems, I could never approve of that! Can you afford to pay for room and board for sixty to ninety days?"

Kim frowned and shook her head. "Not really, no. But I'd even live at Drakken's and do his housework, or move in with Sophie's family...er, a woman I met in the jail" Kim explained.

Baronne's smile widened. "I know Sophie Callard, Miss Possible. She made quite a scene in one of my courtrooms! Half of her sentence is for contempt of court. But I am told she may have actually learned her lesson, even if she herself will not admit it! But that idea would not be a good one. One reason she must face reality is the fact her family can care for itself without her, and she no longer can try and gain the court's mercy through them. Your staying with them might give her an excuse to not believe that fact, if she were inclined to look for one."

Kim sighed, then nodded. "You're right, and it's presumptuous for me to even consider that, anyway! And the Drakken suggestion? Not one of my best ideas, either!" She turned away and fell in beside Sergeant Li. She turned back at the door, though. "I want to apologize again for what I've done, and all the consequences, Your Honor. I promise I won't be one of those people who draw encouragement from getting away with something like this. I really need to think more about how to handle things in the future, if I don't learn something from this, I deserve...." She trailed off, then shrugged. "I'm really, really sorry, Sir."

"I believe you, Miss Possible." Baronne answered gravely, "And I hope you benefit from this lesson. Good Day, now." He started to turn away, then halted. "By the way, you are not being made to leave Isle Drakkon, Miss Possible. I hope you enjoy the remainder of your stay, and that one day you return here for less dramatic purposes!"

Kim nodded, but her smile was merely polite. "I will, Sir, I promise!" Sergeant Li opened the office door, and Kim went through. Li nodded to Baronne and followed her into the outer office.

As they went out into the hallway, Kim hesitated. "I wonder if you mind if I use the ladies room?"

Li smiled politely and shook his head. "Of course not! You'll find the restrooms just down the hall on the left." He pointed down the hall in the opposite direction from the elevators.

"'Kay, I won't be long, I hope!" Kim replied, then hurried away.

It was almost ten minutes later when Li saw two women emerge from the side hall leading to the restrooms, both looking back the way they'd come, concerned frowns on their faces. They came towards Li, talking quietly to each other. On instinct, the Sergeant stopped them. "Is there a problem, Ladies?" He inquired.

They looked at each other, then back down the hall, then one replied, "I don't know for sure if there's anything to be done, Sergeant. It's just that there's a young woman, or I believe she's young, crying in one of the stalls, she seems very upset about something. We talked to her, but she said she'd be all right, and we had to get back to work, so..." she made a helpless shrug.

"I see," Li replied, "Very well, we'll just have to see what the problem is when the young lady comes out, don't let me keep you from your work." As they walked away, Li stared speculatively back down the hallway, then shook his head and continued to wait where he was for Kim. It was nearly fifteen more minutes before the girl appeared. There was little obvious sign she'd been crying, but some small clues confirmed to Li, if he had any doubt, that she had been. But he said nothing of it, instead inquiring solicitously, "Ready to go, Miss Possible?"

Kim smiled and nodded. "Ready to go, sorry I was so long!"

"Not a problem, Miss Possible, not a problem at all."

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"So, how is our girl looking?" Jen Paladin spoke to her partner via cellphone.

"Pensive, and even though I didn't get a close look at her, somehow I get the feeling she's been crying." Sam replied. "On the other hand, her hands are free, and she's still being treated like a guest, not a prisoner, as near as I can tell. After checking the Court House directory to figure out who she'd been taken to see, this isn't much of a surprise."

"Hmph!" Jen grunted. She was outside a building housing the closest thing to a black market gun merchant on the island, having made a purchase for Sam.

"Oh, your eloquence!" Sam quipped, "This is looking more and more like a milk run, I may just start shopping for a new bikini now."

Jen rolled her eyes, fully aware that her lover wasn't serious. "Job's not over until she's safely off the island, Sam, so stick to her." Then the tall mercenary frowned, as she noticed a big blond man emerge from a different door, carrying a large warpped package. "Tell you what, Sam, I think I'll meet up with you at the jail, assuming that's where they're headed, and we'll both tail her."

Now Sam's tone grew serious. "You getting a bad feeling, Jen?"

Jen thought carefully before replying, while watching the man climb into a car driven by a second man, and drive away, "Yeah, I think I am."

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"I suppose you wish to collect your things from the jail, and head to the airport, Miss Possible?" Li asked Kim as they pulled out of the Courthouse parking lot.

Kim started to nod, then winced. "Actually, there's some gear I left where I came ashore that I should go pick up. If you can tell me where I can hire a small truck, a pick-up would do nicely, and a driver?"

Li pursed his lips and thought for a moment, then his face brightened. "Actually, I can do better then that! Since you did not declare this 'gear', I believe it should be inspected properly. So, I think I will have a constable drive you there in one of the Constabulary's utility trucks. And I know just the young man for the job, he used to work for Customs. So, that should solve most of your problems."

Kim gave him a quizzical look. "Most?"

Li nodded, then gestured at the trees lining the road, which were swaying. "The big storm is getting closer, I'm fairly sure the airport will have to close soon, so if you go get your gear, you'll probably have to stay the night on the Island, at the very least."

Kim frowned and studied the sky. It still seemed clear, with the sun beating down brightly, but she knew better then to doubt the Sergeant's judgment. "Well...I do need to collect the gear, so I guess I'll _have_ to stay for a while longer. I do have some emergency funds for something like this."

Li nodded. "Very Well, I will set you up with Constable Grey, and he can try and get your property collected before the weather gets too bad." He dropped Kim at the jail and drove away, the final sign to Kim that she had never been considered truly a prisoner since she had left the jail that morning.

She spent a moment longer studying the sky and the swaying trees, before going inside. The first sight that greeted her eyes was Sophie, dressed in regular clothes, standing in front of the booking desk. A well-dressed man stood with his arms folded to Kim's left, studying the woman and talking quietly with Thea, the older matron. The matron was the first person to spot Kim, and excusing herself, stepped over to her. "We have your possessions ready right over here, Miss Possible." She addressed Kim in a neutral voice, then led Kim around to the table where she'd originally had her possessions inventories.

"What's going on with Sophie?" Kim whispered to the matron.

"The judge.." Thea indicated the man she'd been speaking to, "Offered her a parole to be with her family until the storm passes. Then she has to come back. Sophie agreed, but we made it clear it was not because her children needed her, since most of the neighbors there would have helped out, but because we didn't want her driving us crazy during the storm, worrying about them."

"Oh." Kim then went through the procedures necessary to reclaim her belongings. All but her boots and mission clothes were in the back pack, and she was pleasantly surprised to find the clothes had been laundered. She chose not to re-inventory all the contents of her backpack, to the relief of all, and soon had all the paperwork done.

"Is Angelique on duty?" Kim asked Thea as she shouldered her pack. Someone came up with a plastic shopping bag for her mission clothes, and she carried her boots. Her Kimmunicator went into a holster on her belt. She had also taken out a Middleton Mad Dogs baseball cap and a scrunchie, and soon had the hat on with her ponytail threaded through the hole at the back.

"Processing a petty thief, another one she doesn't expect trouble from." Thea replied in a disapproving tone. "She really shouldn't break protocol that way, you know."

Kim nodded. "She didn't have to for me, she should have treated me like any other prisoner. I hope it doesn't cause her any problems. But what I wanted to know was when she was going to be in the States for her training, I might be free to get together with her. I'd like to talk to her about some things."

"You thinking of getting to be good friends?" Thea asked curiously.

Kim shrugged, "I don't know, she seems pretty nice, and she treated me nicer then I think she had to both times I was here. Anyway, tell her that when she comes to the States, send a message to my website, I'll make sure Wade knows to pass it to me quickly, maybe we'll be able to arrange a meeting. I hope she does well with her training."

"She will, she's a bright girl." Thea replied. "And right now, I think I'll go check on her, make sure she's all right. You take care Miss Possible, this kind of place is no place for you! And this place is no where near as nasty as some you could wind up in!" Kim bobbed her head in acknowledgment, then quickly turned away. She headed for the door, nodding politely to the judge.

Outside, she sat on the steps for about twenty minutes before a marked pick-up truck pulled up in front of her. A uniformed constable got out and came around to her side of the vehicle as she rose to her feet. He seemed familiar, but Kim put that aside as he asked, "What do you want in the back, and what in the front?" His manner was quite brusque, and Kim wondered if he was unhappy to have been given this chore.

"Well, we can only put my backpack in the back if we can secure it, we really don't want it sliding around loose, trust me!"

"I have a couple of straps to secure it." The constable replied. He went back to the driver's side and fished around behind the seat to find the straps in question, and they soon had Kim's pack secure to her satisfaction. Once they were both in the front, the constable asked Kim where they were going. She pulled out her Kimmunicator and showed him where she had come ashore on the map she called up. He nodded, and they were soon on their way.

Kim fell asleep almost as soon as they left the city. She dreamed of being with Ron on a makeshift keelboat on Lake Wannaweep, while kids in canoes painted up as indians circled them and shot rubber-tipped arrows at them. But there was an odd shadow circling below the surface. Then she felt the constable shaking her awake. And her memory clicked. "Miss Possible, this is as close to the location as I can get on the road, we will have to walk from here."

Kim blinked the sleep from her eyes, and focused on his face. "I remember you now! You were the second Customs Inspector at the airport the first time I arrived on the island!" She smiled slightly as she said it, partly because she was happy to have made the connection.

The man seemed to scowl slightly as he nodded. "Yes, that was me. Now can we get on with this?" He got out of the truck.

The smile vanished from Kim's face. _"What did I do...maybe he's heard about me not being prosecuted, and that's the problem?" _She sighed, then opened her door and got out.

Actually, the problem Constable Peter Grey had with Kim was simple. Drakken.

Drakken was _the_ hero, as far as Grey was concerned. It wasn't an uncommon attitude among the island's residents, but for Grey it was an intense feeling, and no matter how the rest of the world might view the teenager behind him, he saw her only as the enemy of Doctor Drakken. And he didn't trust her to just up and leave the island now. So when he had heard part of the story of yesterday's incident,(The gossip had centered on Constable Geroux's misfortune, but enough had been said to anger Grey that Kim would invade Drakken's home) he had volunteered to drive Kim to collect her gear. He intended to make sure she took it, and went home.

Now as they picked their way through the trees, Kim again tried to start a conversation. "Do you enjoy police work more then your previous job?"

Grey hesitated, but then deciding that politeness didn't hurt, he responded, "Yes I do, Miss." The brevity of his answer made Kim scowl mildly, and she let silence hang between them until they broke through the trees and onto the beach. Kim then used her Kimmunicator again, and as she brought up her movement log, a thought occurred to her, and she smacked her forehead. "Idiot! I should have called Wade earlier, give me a minute." She soon had the boy genius on the line. "Hey Wade."

"Kim! Glad to see you're outside, guess things didn't go badly, unless they put you on the chain gang?" He quipped with a smirk.

Kim rolled her eyes. "Funny, Wade! Listen, I'm not in trouble anymore, even though I should be." She hadn't really meant to say that, and winced at Wade's curious look. "Nevermind! The problem now is this storm, I don't think I'll be able to catch a flight off the island today before it hits, so I'll need to check into a hotel for as long as flight service is shut down."

Wade's fingers began to dance over the keys. "Gotcha! I'll make sure your expenses are covered, and I'll monitor the storm as well."

"Spankin!" Kim thought about inquiring about Ron, but decided to call him herself when she reached her hotel. But another question nagged at her. "Wade, do you know anything about the kidnapping of Priscilla Hillsbury? Most importantly, who rescued her?"

"I know a little, but not that." Wade replied, "I know it was privately handled after Mister Hillsbury got fed up with an interagency squabble that he thought endangered his daughter's life. Why did you want to know?"

Kim mulled over her response, then shook her head. "Nothing that can't wait, Wade. I think. I'll call you back later, right now I need to track down my gear. Later, Wade!" As she broke the connection, she called up another program. She soon had what she wanted. "My stuff is about two hundred feet up the beach." She told Constable Grey, and set off, following the signal from the Kimmunicator.

Grey ended up carrying the container with Kim's wetsuit and other items in it, while she carried her board. More straps secured the container in the bed of the truck, and the board just overhung the tailgate, not enough to warrant a warning flag.

It was as they began their drive back to the city that Kim nearly caused a crash. "Let's go by Doc—Mister Lipsky's home." This caused a surge of mixed emotions to surge up in Grey, confusion and suspicion being paramount. "Why would you want to do that?" He asked when he had control of his voice again.

Kim smirked. "I'm getting off _way_ too easy for the things I've done on this trip! So, if no on else is going to punish me, I'll have to do it myself! And the worst thing I could do to myself right now, is to go and apologize to him in person!"

Grey's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Are you sure that's _all_ you intend to do?" Then he felt like kicking himself for being too obvious.

Kim was too preoccupied with her thoughts to pick up on it, though. Instead, she answered almost automatically. "Well, hopefully, yes. But...I suppose maybe I owe him more then that, I still don't know what I might have messed up with that stunt of mine, may ask him. Provided he even allowed me to apologize!" She paused thoughtfully, "But I think he will, even if just to enjoy the moment." At that moment, Kim began to recognize the scenery along the road. "Here we are! Too late to chicken out now!"

Grey was conflicted, but decided it might be best if this was done now, with him present in case the girl tried anything. He had his taser, and baton, though he didn't intend to repeat Geroux's mistake. So, he slowed to turn into the driveway, only to have Kim stop him. As he hit the brakes, she popped out of the door and went over to the mailbox, which was adjacent to the main road. She opened it and removed a package and a stack of letters. She returned to the truck and hopped in. "Might as well deliver his mail, while we're at it!" She smiled widely as she said it, as if she was doing a favor for her best friend, not her arch-enemy.

After a moment of incredulity, Grey put the truck in gear and proceeded up the drive.

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"Well, this is a complication, but a minor one." Erich Kummetz commented as he studied the police vehicle entering Drakken's estate through binoculars. He was concealed in the trees on top of the hill Kim had noticed the previous day, about two hundred yards from the road, directly across from the entrance to Drakken's house. As she had assumed, it was an excellent vantage point for watching the property.

Kummetz couldn't see the driveway much beyond the point where it joined the road, or the parking circle in front of the house, but he could clearly see the tops of the garage doors, and everything above it. So he'd be able to tell if the truck entered the garage, as unlikely as that seemed, and he'd see the occupants if they ascended the steps to the front door. He also had a clear view of the south side of the house from his position, and most of the slope down from it. As far as Shego's house went, though, he only saw flashes of the roof through gaps in the trees.

Now he waited. He'd seen what looked like a young woman take the mail from the box, which meant that his operation might starting any minute. He kept his binoculars focused on the house as he spoke to his sole companion on the hill. "Be prepared to send the signal any minute."

Edouard LeMonde, who had been daydreaming about how things would be when his cousin was restored to power, his _extremely grateful_ cousin, started and looked around in confusion. "Sir? What has happened?

Kummetz suppressed his angry first response, instead replying levelly, "The mail is being delivered, the target should soon have her package! And there go our two unwitting assistants now."

LeMonde raised his own binoculars and managed to focus them on the front door of Drakken's house just in time to see the two figures waiting there, before they stepped inside and out of his sight. He lowered his glasses, frowning. That red ponytail, the baseball cap? _"Surely not!"_

Kummetz lowered his glasses, smiling. "It looks as if our little plan is going well, eh, _Herr_ LeMonde?"

Edouard stared into the mercenary's eyes and decided not to contradict him without better reason, and instead nodded. Inside, he began to think whether there was anyone left on the island who would smuggle him off if things went wrong.

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The housekeeper had been surprised by them, but more by Peter Grey then Kim. She let them into the foyer, where Kim stood looking around, still holding the mail in her hands. She had already checked the addresses on the envelope, and snorted when she saw that supervillains were just as vulnerable to spam mail as anyone else, even when living on a small Caribbean Island. Shego had only received one piece of mail out of the whole stack.

The foyer had a nice marble floor in grey and white tiles arranged in a series of overlapping diamonds. A small table with a marble top holding a vase full of flowers stood just where the foyer widened out into the living room, and Kim stepped over and placed the mail on it. She then looked up to see Drakken entering through the door to the patio. Unfortunately, Shego was with him.

The two villains approached with curious looks on their faces, Shego's curiosity mixed with mistrust. Drakken was wearing a short-sleeved shirt, but thankfully not shorts. Shego was again wearing a swimsuit with a gauzy wrap over it.

"And to what do we owe this honor, Kimberly?" Drakken asked quizzically as he stopped, on the far side of the table from Kim, though it wasn't between them.

Suddenly nervous, or maybe just a little sick, Kim gestured at the table. "Well, I brought you your mail!" She then grimaced and hesitated before continuing, "And I came here to apologize for yesterday...and Thank You for not pressing trespassing charges."

Drakken blinked, then nodded graciously. But before he could speak, Shego spoke up, pure snarkiness in her voice. "And what do you think that's worth? I mean, why should we even accept any apologies from you?"

Kim's nostrils flared. "I wasn't apologizing to _you, _Shego, because _you_ don't deserve one! I was talking to Doctor Drakken, no one invited you! Here..." she picked the small package up from the table, "Go open your mail, while we.." she had tossed the package at Shego as she spoke, and Shego caught it reflexively.

As she did, her eyes flared wide. "Listen, Possible! I..."

And the package exploded...

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Had two points to end this cliffhanger, chose this one. Bit of conflicting advice from some others has me puzzled, and I apologize for the long chapter, again. Just can't break the habit, it seems.

Please Read and Review


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Kim Possible, any of the other characters from that show, or those from any other media I may reference in my stories.

I'd like to thank Lathis, Von Uriken, and King in Yellow for their reviews of the last chapter, as well as all those who sent reviews earlier.

* * *

Kim looked on in horror as a cloud of blue mist enveloped Shego, who staggered back as she dropped the package. It was intact, but several holes had popped open in it. The regular spacing of them indicated they were designed to vent the contents of the package. Drakken stood frozen, not moving away from the mist, and Kim had take one step towards him, to push him away, when a shout came from behind her.

"I KNEW IT!" It came from Constable Grey, causing Kim to spin around. She barely spotted Grey's hand lunging towards her with a stun gun in it in time to deflect it away from her body with her left forearm. Grasping Grey's forearm with her right hand, she continued her spin and pulled on it before snapping it sharply downwards so that the side of his wrist impacted the edge of the marble tabletop. His hand sprung open, and the stun gun flew away. Kim then released him and jumped back, dropping into a fighting stance while shouting "What are you doing?"

To the angry Grey, everything was obvious. Kim Possible had first come to the island to stop the revolution by defeating Doctor Drakken, who was the true hero. But she'd opportunistically managed to get herself called a hero too, probably after she realized that she couldn't stop the revolution, and decided to switch sides. And now she was back again to finish the job she'd failed at before. He now pulled his baton and attacked, using the training he'd received after becoming a policeman.

Unfortunately for him, Kim had had the same training, and gone beyond that to more advanced levels, and better still, had practiced _against_ people trained to fight like Grey. And far better ones, at that. Brain already working on the implications of the bomb in the package, she felt that there was no time to try reason, so she went on the offensive, even as Grey assumed that _he_ was seizing the initiative. But suddenly Kim was inside his guard, and then to his brief astonishment this girl he had to outweigh by nearly a hundred pounds had him off the floor and nearly horizontal before letting him crash to the ground, head bouncing hard off the marble floor. As Grey's eyes crossed, Kim ran over towards Shego dropping the police baton on the table as she passed.

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Erich Kummetz turned as 3 beeps emanated from a device placed on top of his own backpack, which rested against the base of one of the coconut palms. "Well, phase one of this part of our operation has activated." His voice showed no emotion as he spoke. Then he reached for the transceiver that hung on a strap around his neck, and spoke into it. "All teams move to jump-off points. No one proceed from there without authorization. Green has been neutralized." He also entered a code on a small keypad built into the device, before letting it drop again. _"Jammer activated."_ He ticked off in his head.

"But how do you know?" Edouard LeMonde queried. Both men were standing well back in the shade of the trees, hardly invisible, but unlikely to be noticed from the road or the house unless someone actively looked for them. "How do you know she had the device in her hand? What if she flung it away? You have a radio that tells you it went off, but you don't know if it was effective!"

Kummetz regarded him coolly. "Is that what you think? I considered that, my friend." He turned to use his binoculars to see if he could spot any of the teams moving. "The signal came from inside the house, from _someone_ inside the house."

Edouard looked stunned for a moment, then he smiled. "You have someone inside the house? That should make things much easier! And why didn't you tell anyone?"

"A non-combatant, LeMonde. Useless for any more then a to place a certain item within the house, but nothing that would endanger her personally. Too easily intimidated into doing our bidding." Kummetz never stopped his scanning as he talked. "If they follow proper tactics, they should all be in position in about twenty minutes."

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Twenty men moved quickly towards their positions. Six had only joined up that morning, having been responsible for the intelligence gathering functions in the city. They formed teams of three and set up with one moving to a position where they could cover the front entrance, including the garage doors. The second team took position near Shego's home from which they could watch the beach below Drakken's home. Kummetz suspected there might be an escape tunnel leading that way.

The fourteen mercenaries composing the assault force, the men who had been at the house with Kummetz the previous day, were divided into teams of two. Four teams were meant to converge on the house, merge into two teams of four at the front and rear entrances, and affect entry. Two more teams would determine if entry could be achieved through the second floor windows. Liam was in one of those parties, mostly because Kummetz doubted the windows would prove practical as a means of entry, and the teams involved would then be free to support the main assault at the doors if necessary. Dumas was also in one of the window teams, but as a volunteer, and because he thought the same thing.

The seventh two-man team consisted of Colter and Pine. They were assigned to watch the road to Port Marie for any attempt by the Constabulary or the military to intervene on Drakken's behalf. Colter was half convinced they had drawn this assignment because Pine had told Kummetz about his comments regarding Shego, though he admitted that there hadn't been a reasonable opportunity for him to do so since that morning.

Still, he was in a sour mood as he and Pine set up an M249 SAW on a small knoll that gave them coverage of four hundred yards of the road. Then he saw something that first alerted him, puzzled him, and then caused an idea to form in his head.

About fifty yards down the road, a car was pulled over on the shoulder. There were two women standing beside it, talking...

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"Does this make _any _sense to you?" Sam McCarron asked Jen Paladin in exasperation, flinging her hands up. "She goes to a remote spot, and she and the cop with her disappear for a while. We plant a tracker on the truck, and sorry I blew our chance before they left the city. Now she goes to Drakken's! Or, do you think maybe the cop is on Drakken's payroll, and brought her here against her will?"

Her partner stood with her arms folded, staring along the road. They had never been in a good position to see Kim herself since she had left the jail. "It's possible, but I don't think so." She finally opined, "There was some gear in the back of the truck when they came back to the main road that wasn't originally there, so they must have collected something of Kim's. Mister Hillsbury didn't mention how Kim got on the island, but I'll bet she took an indirect route."

Sam frowned. "You think she knew about the surveillance cameras on the planes? And how does someone arrange something like that?"

Jen gave a minimal shrug. "As far as Kim goes, maybe. As to the other, with only two local commercial airlines that service this island, it probably wasn't hard for Drakken, or someone, to arrange for the cameras. Which is obviously why those mercenaries trying to fly here were turned back at the airport, they must check out anyone who looks remotely like trouble, while they're still in flight."

"Who, though? Does Drakken have access to a terrorist and/or mercenary database?"

Jen waved her hand to try and drive an annoying insect away. "No clue, Sam, so let's not worry about that, let's concern ourselves with whether or not Kim Possible is in trouble here. Our job is...well, was to make sure her incarceration was kosher. Technically, the only reason we can excuse our interest is that she's still accompanied by a police officer."

Sam nodded, also looking in the general direction of Drakken's home. "You want to get closer? Little trespass of our own?"

Jen shook her head. "Not yet. We'll give her twenty minutes. Maybe something will develop."

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"You're out of your mind, you know." Pine told Colter, "There's no way you can justify going down there, just to check those two out."

Colter responded with a sly grin, "Want to bet?" He reached for his radio, depressed the transmit switch, and said, "Blade Seven to Crown, have a situation."

A moment later, Kummetz's voice came back. "Crown to Blade Seven, what is your situation?"

"Crown, we have a vehicle pulled to the side of the road, roughly fifty yards south of us. Two women visible with the vehicle. They may be outside the range of your jamming device, and are likely to report any gunfire quite promptly, over."

On his hilltop, Kummetz scowled. In truth, there were people living close enough to hear gunfire at Drakken's, under normal circumstances. But the rising wind from the east was reducing that chance, meaning his men could have more time to accomplish their goal. But now these two women...

He knew nothing of Colter's ideas concerning Shego, he'd put the two men where they were because he knew for a fact that heir 'credentials' were false on at least one important count, and didn't want them fouling up the assault. Now he made a decision. "Better neutralize them, but only if shots are fired, rather not kill any tourists." He instructed Colter. Killing non-natives other then their prime targets could only complicate things, and give his clients something to complain about.

Colter made a face as Kummetz signed off. Pine nodded, a satisfied grin on his face. "That's not a reason to go down there, we can 'neutralize' them from here if we have to."

Colter's face contorted as he tried to think of an answer. Then one presented itself. "We couldn't right now, could we? The blond is out of our line of sight." Pine looked down the road, and winced. The blond woman was indeed no longer in sight, their view of her obstructed by some trees as she moved away from the car. "Now, if someone fires, and she pulls her cellphone out, we have no way to stop her making that call from here, do we?" Now Colter had a triumphant look on his face.

Pine looked back down the road, wincing. He could see Sam McCarron again, but knew it made no difference, Colter would only point out she might be out of sight again at the critical moment. And he couldn't let Colter go down alone, Kummetz had stressed keeping all teams together. "What about watching the road?" he asked without enthusiasm, patting the SAW.

"We can deal with them and get back up here quickly if shooting starts." Colter replied, "Now stop stalling and let's get going, it'll take time to circle and take them by surprise."

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The code that Kummetz had entered into his transceiver had activated a device hidden in a large handbag, currently in the kitchen of Drakken's house. But as soon as the device in question became active, it was noticed.

On the second floor, what had appeared to be a smoke detector suddenly showed it was something more. Four small sections of it's housing swung out, revealing small lift fans, which began spinning. It then dropped clear of the ceiling and moved towards and down the main staircase, passing above the havoc going on on the first floor, and entered the kitchen through the transom above the door. It hovered a moment, then headed straight for the cabinet in which the handbag resided.

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Drew Theodore P. Lipsky had overcome a lot of his shortcomings since the first time he had crossed paths with Kim Possible, and learned how to better use the skills he did have. But he still had the greatest difficulty dealing with multiple crisis thrown at him at once. And right now, there was too much going on for his brain to keep up with.

He had been frozen by the explosion, which was unusual, he usually reacted very quickly to loud noises and unidentified clouds of vapor, having caused a few himself in his lab. But he didn't back away from the one released from the package in Shego's hand, he merely stood there and watched her reel back, eyes blinking rapidly, reaching to cover her mouth.

Then the shout, and he turned just in time to see the constable attack Kim Possible, and her swift response. Then the teen dashed towards Shego. Behind her, the front door swung open to admit one of Drakken's security guards, another off-duty constable. At almost the same moment, another came in through the patio doors. The one at the front was taken aback by the sign of Grey on the floor, shaking his head as he tried to clear it.

"Doc!" The touch of panic in Shego's voice registered, and he felt a queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Doc! Some thing's wrong, I can't see!" She suddenly backed into the wall, but her legs kept moving, as if she hadn't even felt the impact. Drakken moved towards her, then stopped as he saw the guard at the front pulling his Taser and aiming it at Kim. Suddenly, Drakken found his voice. "Charles! Stop that!" He snapped out in a commanding tone. When the astonished guard looked at him, he continued, "I don't know why that Constable attacked Kimberly, she's not responsible for this!"

"She brought the package in!" Grey shouted, then winced at the pain that shot through his head.

"But where did she get it, Constable?" Drakken asked as he moved carefully towards Shego, who was flailing her hands behind her, appearing not to even feel the wall she was pressed up against, while her head swiveled from side to side, a look of growing panic on her face. Kim was in front of her, trying to decide how to take hold of her without causing panic.

"From the mail box! A fellow conspirator must have placed it there!" Grey's accusatory tone rang out again. The guard behind him looked from him to Drakken and back again.

"Kim Possible _does not_ operate that way!" Drakken snapped angrily. Overcoming his fear that whatever hit Shego might affect him, he grabbed the pale woman's arm, only to have her wrench it free, but not deliberately, as near as Drakken could tell. "Forget that, we have greater problems, Shego needs medical attention, immediately!" He paused before continuing grimly "And I think we're about to come under attack." Kim, who had been startled by Drakken's defense of her, met his gaze, then looked at Shego, then nodded. "Is there a way down to the garage without my having to go outside?" She asked the scientist. Her eyes were on Shego as she asked.

Shego chose that moment to speak, or rather cry out. "Doc! I can't see! Can't hear anything, either, or feel...anything! Smell..." she raised her own arm as if to sniff it, and hit herself hard in the nose. Hard enough to smack her own head into the wall behind her. "OW! I felt that, sort of...I can see shadows, but it's all so blurred..."

"Yes, Kimberly, there's a staircase down to the garage, the door is in the kitchen, through there. I'll take care of Shego, you do whatever you think is best." Kim blinked, chewing her lip as she looked at Shego.

"Doctor Drakken!" He turned to see the security guard who'd entered from the rear holding a phone in his hand. "Phone lines are dead!" Drakken's eyes narrowed. "Constable! Try your portable radio, quickly!"

Having struggled into a sitting position, Grey pulled out his radio and tried contacting headquarters. All he received was a erratic squealing noise. "Jammed" Drakken muttered, before loudly announcing, "Gentlemen and ladies, I'm now certain we're about to be attacked! Shego's been disabled, I expect some sort of assault momentarily. We have to get organized." Shego chose that moment to slide to her right and bump into a side table, nearly toppling a vase on it, which Drakken barely managed to catch. "Doc! Are you there?" The plea in her voice for reassurance tore at Drakken, but he had other priorities. "The jamming may not last, and I can close the storm shutters, which may slow them down, unless they came prepared for them..." he trailed off thoughtfully, then shook his head. "Which wouldn't surprise me much at all."

Kim grit her teeth in frustration as she gazed helplessly at her nemesis, then spun and dashed for the kitchen door. Grey watched her go through narrowed eyes.

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"I just caught a whiff of cheap camouflage make-up." Sam McCarron muttered. Jen Paladin looked at her, then both turned to face the trees just as Pine and Colter stepped out from behind two of them, weapons leveled. "Betcha he says: 'Well, well, well, look what we have here'." Sam muttered to Jen. "Optimist." Jen responded quietly.

"Well, Well, Well, look what we have here!" Colter unknowingly parroted Sam's words. Sam tried to hide her smirk, since it would have been an odd thing for a frightened woman to do in the circumstances, and might have given the two men a hint all was not as they expected, if they were perceptive enough to pick up on it. Which both women now seriously doubted they were.

They were right. Colter had been a Royal Marine, but not a commando, as he'd claimed to Kummetz. Pine likewise had lied about passing the Ranger course, he'd washed out fairly quickly, though he had been in a combat unit overseas. And incidentally _was_ responsible for the death of his CO. They were good enough actors to fool most of the members of their team, but Kummetz had had their numbers from the day he had hired them.

Right now, Colter was assessing the two women. He liked what he saw, especially when he planned to see even more. He noted that both women obviously worked out, the short blond one especially. She was wearing a pale blue T-shirt with the legend 'I can get her from zero to 'O' in sixty seconds' printed on the front. _"This will be more fun then I thought, doesn't like men, does she?"_ He noticed how tight her jeans were, and studied a belly pack at her waist. Not big enough to hold a decent weapon, and divided into multiple pockets. _"Loose change and lipstick, if she bothers, is about all that'll fit in there."_

"We don't have a lot of time here, ladies.." Colter now said aloud, "To make sure you're not going to be a problem, so we need your full cooperation..." He broke off scowling as Sam started to giggle, and tried to cover her mouth. Jen also suddenly looked away from him, her lips twitching. "What the hell..."

"All that—hehe--all that web gear, all that kit, and he left his fly open!" Sam managed to force out, turning sideways to the men and doubling over with apparent laughter. Jen also covered her mouth as if to hide a smile.

And for their sins, both men fell for it...

Shortly thereafter, Sam finished adjusting the sports bra she'd just pulled on, while looking at the hood of the car curiously. "You know..." she began conversationally, "Most of the big one's eyebrows are still stuck to the hood, Jen."

Jen's response came from beyond the open trunk lid. "So? Hot day, the wax must have been a bit tacky."

Sam rolled her eyes. "Sure, it had nothing to do with how hard you introduced his face to the car, not a bit." She picked up one of the two men's rifles. "Vanilla M16A2, not even a rail for attachments, meh!"

"You take what you can get." Jen stepped into view, in the process of getting her arms in the sleeves of a tropical weight black pullover, before pulling it on over her head. She already had her .45 holstered on her belt, with the two spare magazines in their own holders, the third already loaded. They held rounds hand-loaded especially for Jen, with a bit more kick then the factory loads. In fact, her gun couldn't handle factory loads reliably because of the difference in power. But she didn't expect to need more then what she carried for the gun. She and Sam liked their personal weapons, but usually employed whatever was available or became available on missions. "What about the guy you nailed with the ball bearing, think you cracked his skull?"

Sam regarded the unconscious Pine, stripped to his underwear and securely bound alongside the car. "Nah! Slight concussion maybe, that's all! Lousy throw, if he'd been wearing a helmet, I'd have hit Kevlar instead of skull!" She'd palmed the ball bearing from her belly pack while pretending to double over with laughter.

"Wasn't going to mention that." Jen responded as she tucked her top in and picked up Colter's radio. "Well, we're into their communications, anyway." She scowled as she regarded the unconscious men. "But this isn't right, Kummetz wouldn't pit guys like this against the kind of opposition he's facing here."

"And that means?" Sam asked as she pulled on a pair of mottled gray trousers. Not camouflage pattern, mind you, just 'mottled'.

"It means that on some level, this might be a diversion here. A legit objective, but a diversion for something else more important." Jen replied as she hefted one of the M16s. "But our job is to see that Kim gets off this island safely, and that looks as if it just became a much more difficult job then we thought, so lets get to it!"

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"_Schiess!" _Kummetz spat out as he released the transmit key on his own radio, causing Edouard LeMonde to jump. The German mercenary leader took a moment to compose himself before he brought the radio back to his mouth. "I understand, though this is a great disappointment, as you obviously know!" Kummetz rubbed his head vigorously before speaking again. "Tell me, do you think you can maintain a position on the western coast of the island?" He listened intently for a moment, "_Nein_? Yes, I understand, there are no sheltered anchorages on the west side to take refuge in. Well, we'll have to plan on another means of rescuing President LeMonde after the storm has passed. Though how else we can draw all the armed police out of the capital..._Ach_, a problem to resolved later! Head for safe harbor, I will be in touch later, Crown out!"

Having developed a keen sense of knowing when not to disturb a volatile man, Edouard remained silent. As long as his equally keen curiosity would allow. Finally he couldn't stand it anymore, and cleared his throat. "What has gone wrong, Sir?" He asked as soon as Kummetz turned to face him.

"The Brazilians have let me down, Edouard. Not that I can blame them, they have no control over the weather...Phase Two has been aborted for now. Even if they were able to free your cousin from the jail, once we have drawn the available armed police out here, an escape by boat is impossible, due to Tropical Storm Kimberly! By the time they had freed him, even by the most optimistic timetable, and gotten him to the harbor, the East Coast of the island would be within the advancing storm, and the waters too rough to risk such a prize on the boat they've brought with them!" He again turned away, staring at Drakken's home. "So, we'll have to settle for eliminating _Herr Doktor_ Drakken and his bodyguard!"

Kummetz's mention of the storm, and more importantly it's name, caused a nagging question in the back of Edouard's brain to come back to the fore. And that was whether or not to mention the _slim_, in his mind, chance that he'd seen Kim Possible go into Drakken's house. The big question was whether Kummetz could possibly blame him if the girl was discovered in the house, and especially if she interfered successfully with the operation. For the moment he held his peace, and listened to Kummetz, now speaking on his cellphone.

"Liam, Phase Two is off...no help for it, this damn storm!...So, we will proceed. No survivors, kill everyone inside the house...Yes, even her, her usefulness is at an end, and she can testify to the involvement of foreign mercenaries in this action...Very well, _Gute Jagd!_"

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Drakken had managed to capture both of Shego's hands, and fervently hoped the woman didn't light up. He suddenly heard a persistent beeping pattern, and turned to one of the guards. "Andrew, find where that's coming from, my little pet has found whatever is jamming the radios, see what it is, please!" He turned to Shego, who was on the verge of hyperventilating. _"She can feel, but it takes a hard poke or blow to register...senses dulled, but not completely...Ah!" _Shifting position, he laid his own head against Shego's, cheek to cheek. She didn't react. "Can you hear me now?" he intoned, then winced at his choice of words._ "Dratted commercials...ow!" _Shego had snapped her head to one side, giving Drakken a possibly bruised cheek.

"Doc? Was that you? Sounded weird!" Then her eyes widened, and she nodded. "Bone induction? So, I can hear in a way...ah! Not getting any worse, but I'm _useless_ Doc, and this must mean someone's coming!" Drakken noted that Shego was going from panicked to angry. He pressed his cheek against hers' again. "I know, Shego, we are dealing with it."

"Doctor Drakken!" Andrew the guard had emerged from the kitchen area, carrying a handbag. "It's the housekeeper's bag, the device is in it!" That Drakken knew already, his little disguised detector was following the guard, trying to remain close to the bag. "Let me see!" Drakken ordered. The second guard stepped close to the housekeeper, who stood with arms crossed, a sullen look on her face. "Why did you do this thing?" He asked her. "I got nothing to say for myself, to you or anyone else!" She snapped back.

Drakken dumped the contents of the bag on the floor. Shego was now turning her head from side to side, squinting and occasionally cocking it as if trying to find a position where her ears would work. Drakken quickly spotted the device he sought, encased in gray plastic, with a single switch on it. He tried to mainpulate it, but it didn't budge. "Hmmm, one use switch, once turned on, can't be turned off again! Well, that's easily solved!" He tossed the device onto the marble section of the floor. The device disguised as a smoke detector swooped after it, and a low hum emanated from it. The plastic case of the device began to melt, then there was a flash and sharp bang. Shego's head moved slightly as if she heard it, a small frown crossing her features.

"Try your radio now, Constable...Constable?" Drakken looked in momentary confusion at the foyer, but Constable Gray was nowhere to be seen.

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**Moments earlier...**

"Buckler One to Crown, the policeman has emerged from the front door, and is crouched behind the parapet above the driveway, he may be trying to reach his truck, over."

Kummetz raised his binoculars to study the area in question. _The parapet should be called a balustrade, technically." _He thought. He could clearly make out the constable's position, since he was not behind a solid barrier, and it provided poor protection from gunfire. He raised his radio to his lips. "If he tries to escape in the vehicle, stop him. If he has a weapon in the vehicle and tries to get back inside, stop him. If he just plans to flee through the jungle, let him go, unless he stumbles directly on some of you, then deal with him, Crown out."

At the same time, another series of beeps sounded from the device atop his backpack. He regarded it ruefully, then looked at Edouard. "You see? Doctor Drakken has neutralized the jammer, and can now call for help! Now that we do not wish him to, that is! Drawing the armed police out of the city to allow the Brazilians to carry out Phase Two is obviously no longer desirable!" He checked his watch, and did calculations in his head. "Waiting for the Brazilians to arrive offshore now entails some risk, that the police will arrive before we have gained entry and killed Drakken and Shego." He spoke into his transceiver again. "Crown to Blade One, move to a position near Shego's home from which you can observe the beach. Signal when in position. All other blades, re-commence your approach as soon as Blade One sends that signal, Crown Out."

Peter Gray was determined to make up for whichever mistake he had made, either bringing Kim Possible and aiding the evil ones' plans, or attacking the girl, which might also have aided the enemy's plans, if she was not a party to them. He was still inclined to believe the former, but his current plans were the same no matter which was correct. To get to something he'd concealed in his truck.

He'd kept low from the moment he'd slipped out the front door, then worked his way cautiously down the stairs. He felt most exposed descending the lower flight, but he saw nothing of the attackers Drakken predicted. But he did not doubt that they were present.

He'd parked the pick-up truck broadside to the garage doors, but with the driver's door on the side away from them. Not that it should have mattered, he could have entered on the passenger side and easily reached his goal, but for some reason that simple fact didn't occur to him. Or perhaps the lack of a visible enemy caused his actions. For whatever reason, he dashed around to the driver's side while staying low, which was virtually pointless once he no longer had the vehicle for cover. Opening the door, he quickly rummaged under the seat to produce a handgun, a Beretta 9mm automatic. It was not a police-issue weapon, but one left over from his revolutionary days. Oddly, he kept it at police headquarters, concealed in his locker, and had managed to smuggle it out to the truck before picking Kim Possible up at the main entrance.

Now he made sure a round was chambered, then closed the truck door. As he did so, he held the weapon up out of the way, in plain sight. Even as the truck door slammed, there was a short burst of automatic fire from the brush on the far side of the turning circle. Constable Grey's last thoughts were unfair and uncharitable ones about Kim Possible.

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Kim Possible heard the muffled shots as she reached the garage. It currently held an old model open touring car, maybe from the forties, she wasn't sure, one of Drakken's smaller hovercraft, and a motorcycle she suspected strongly as being Shego's. _"I hope she gets a chance to ride it again." _Kim was thinking when she heard the shots. She ran towards the three doors. They were separated from each other by three foot sections of wall. Individual controls for each door were lined up on the wall on the far right, along with another that was labeled '**Storm Barriers'**. This control had two positions. Seeing it was down, Kim looked at the foot of the doors and saw a row of triangular metal plates, or more likely the tops of posts meant to reinforce the doors.

Kim tried to remember for certain how the truck was parked. Most importantly, which door it was in front of. If her memory was correct, it should be right in front of the central door. She noticed a small vibration in the doors which came and went, even as she pushed the 'up' button for the center door and watched it begin to rise. A strong gust of air blew in as it did, which explained the vibration. _"Storm getting closer, just to complicate things!" _But as the door rose, sunshine shown through the gap, belying the threat. Kim waited until the door was high enough for her to dive under, then hit the button again, stopping the door.

She moved to where she could crouch and peer under it, trying to scan as much of the surrounding area as possible. But when she saw no immediate sign of danger, she took a chance, knowing that she might have little time if the enemy was closing in. She dove under the door and rolled the short distance to the truck. That left her in a position to look under the truck and see Constable Grey.

Kim grimaced, it was obvious to her that Grey was dead. She swallowed hard and her stomach felt a little queasy for a moment. She didn't understand the Constable or his actions, but of course she regretted his death. She spotted the gun still in his outstretched hand, but it never occurred to her to take it. She was focused on her own needs and only later would she think it might have been useful to one of the guards inside.

Rising to a crouch, she opened the truck door carefully, thankful it hadn't been locked by her or Grey. She took the bag containing her mission clothes and her boots from behind the seat, then eased the door closed. She doubted it's movement had been missed, but she wasn't going to blow an advantage if it had.

But now came the tricky part, getting her backpack out of the back. She visualized how it had been strapped in, as well as the arrangement of the other items in the trunk. She frowned._ "I'll have to at least expose my whole arm to reach and undo the straps. And there's nothing blocking the line of sight from the other side of the turning circle, if the person watching is above the level of the truck sides."_

She had to weigh the possible risks against the advantage of having her gear. She could always improvise, after all, she'd done it before. But she decided to take the chance.

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"Yes, Sir, someone has slipped out through the garage door. Then I clearly saw the truck's far door open and then close. Not sure if whoever it is is inside the truck or not...wait!" Kummetz did wait, very impatiently for the next words from Buckler One. "Someone just reached over the side of the truck bed and did something, then withdrew...no, there they are again! Target is small, not sure if I can hit it from here, but if I get closer, I can throw a grenade under the truck or close enough. To injure whoever it is...they seem to be trying to do something blind, I'll try and hit them from here..No! Damn, they just pulled a backpack of some kind from the truck bed. Sorry, Sir, I should have simply opened fire rather then wasting time reporting!"

Kummetz frowned, but didn't let any displeasure show in his voice. "No, you acted correctly, I wished to be informed of any activity! However, and all units hear this, from now on shoot to kill if you see any movement in or around the house and grounds."

"Sir, the garage door is closing again, whoever it was went back inside." Buckler One reported.

Some time earlier, a little nagging voice had begun to yammer in the back of Kummetz's mind. It told him that he'd seen something significant and not realized it. _"They were after something in the truck, so it had to belong to the constable, or the red-haired girl...Idioten! A red-haired girl, and Doktor Drakken? It seems __improbable, but..."_

Again he spoke into his transceiver, but this time with ill-concealed urgency. "All units, it is possible that unexpected resistance may be met within the house! I think it is quite possible..._Ach!_ I believe Kim Possible is within the house, and may aid the targets in resisting us! All units move in swiftly, but with caution! There are no innocents within, shoot anyone you see, immediately! Crown out!"

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Sorry for the long delay since last update. Shortening this chapter so as to post it today.

Please Read and Review.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Kim Possible, any of the other characters from that show, or those from any other media I may reference in my stories.

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The twelve men who made up Blades one through six began their moves towards the house. The odd numbered teams were on the north side of the house, the even ones on the south side. Blades 1 and 2 were to meet at the rear of the house on the patio and gain entry. 5 and 6 were to meet at the front door and try to get in there. Blade 3, which included Liam, was going to try and gain access through the second floor windows on the north side while Blade 4, which included Dumas, was to try the same on the south side. As he counted down through the team assignments, Erich Kummetz inevitably came back to Blade 7, whom he hadn't heard from since they were told to neutralize the two women. He keyed his transceiver. "Blade 7, report the status of the two women."

The response came from a cheerful female voice he didn't recognize. "Oh, we're just fine, Erich, Thanks for caring!" Kummetz stood there blinking for just a moment before recovering. "You seem to have the advantage of me." He transmitted.

A different voice, also female, but this one deadly seriousin tone, replied. "And we fully intend to keep it that way."

Kummetz barely hesitated. "All teams to alternate tactical frequency immediately!" He grit his teeth briefly, before commencing to give new orders.

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Jen Paladin gave her partner a stern look, shaking her head as she took a piece of paper she'd found on Colter from a pocket and studied it, then adjusted the frequency control on the comm she'd taken from him. She then handed the paper to Sam, who still had a slight smirk on her face as she too adjusted a radio, this one taken from Pine. Her frivolous response to Kummetz's broadcast had had a purpose, decided on by the two mercenaries as soon as they heard the order for the attack to proceed. To disrupt Kummetz's plans, even if it meant sacrificing the element of surprise. Now, thanks to Colter's inability to memorize radio frequencies, among many other things, they could listen as Kummetz adjusted his plans on the fly.

"Buckler 2, leave one man at current position, then move quickly to replace Buckler 1 at front of house. Buckler 1, move to position near road. One man to cover open area east of road, one to watch to the south, third to take position with view in both directions. Blade 4, cancel your assignment. Hold position and keep watch to the south. All units, we have at least two unknown hostiles, last known to be south of us and east of the road, but may have crossed road. They are now armed with Blade 7's weapons, and probably their armor. Assault teams continue attack, except Blade 4. Crown out."

Kummetz was right as far as the weapons and armor went, though both women had found adjusting the armor for a comfortable fit hadn't been easy due to it's design. But they were making do, having no armor of their own to wear. In addition to the M-16s, they also had one Beretta 9mm pistol each, plus a pair of fragmentation grenades, and one flashbang as well, in addition to their personal weapons, Jen's .45 and the compact pump-action shotgun she'd gotten for Sam at the weapons dealer where she'd seen and recognized Liam. Sam's nickname of 'Carronade' McCarron was due to her love for such short-range but devastating weapons.

Jen now looked ahead towards the house, measuring distances in her head. Lack of familiarity with the exact terrain was vexing, as was not knowing the exact disposition of Kummetz's 'Blades', but she now had a good idea where the two 'Bucklers' were moving, and of course now knew Blade 4 was on the south side of the house. "I'll take the right, Sam. I'll keep the road on my right, maybe twenty feet from it. You take the left, just stay in sight as much as possible. We'll try and take these two 'Bucklers' out first, then split and work down either side of the house." Sam nodded in agreement, and the pair moved forward, as swiftly as they dared.

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Inside the house, Shego was huddled on the floor still, Drakken by her side, now talking on his phone. One guard was watching the housekeeper, while the second was making sure all the storm barriers for the windows and doors had closed and locked properly. The other maid Drakken had sent on an errand in the garage.

"No, Chief Constable, don't send every available man here," Drakken paused as he considered what he was saying, then forged on, "First increase the guard around the President, and at the jail, in case an attempt is made to free LeMonde. There's no guarantee that what's happening out here is the only thing these people are planning to carry out! I have other sources of help, so only send the men you can spare after making sure all other targets are covered!" He listened to LeClerc's reply, almost hoping the Chief Constable would argue the point, but instead the man agreed. But as soon as he hung up, Drakken started another call, for some of that other 'help' he'd mentioned.

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North of Drakken's house, and not too far from where Kim had come ashore, sat another house, much smaller, and appearing to be a bit ramshackle, raised on pilings. That was very deceiving, the interior was completely modern, and all aspects of it's construction were up to date, merely made to look like a beach bum's shack.

Though the breeze was blowing steadily, it was still sunny, and two people swung slowly in a large net hammock strung up between two trees not too far from the 'shack'. A stone jetty stuck out from the shore near the shack, alongside which was tied up a low-slung, sleek watercraft looking like a cigarette boat with a covered cockpit, black with a set of vividly painted flames trailing back from the bow. A pair of eyes were also visible, low near the waterline as the craft bobbed on the increasing swell. Not visible was the shark's mouth painted on the boat's bottom.

Motor Ed Lipsky was dozing as the hammock swung to and fro. He was dressed solely in a pair of cut-off jeans. His diminutive blond companion was making do with a light coat of suntan oil. Both started awake when the theme from 'Jaws' began to play. Ed reached in one of his hip pockets and pulled out a cellphone. "You've got the Motorman, and you're disturbing a great _siesta_, this better be good!"

"Eddie, it's Drew, we've got Apaches." Ed's eyes snapped all the way open and he swung out of the hammock so violently his companion had to grab on for dear life not to get dumped on the ground when it flipped all the way over. "Eddie!" She wailed.

"Chill!" Ed snapped, then spoke to Drakken "How many, and where?"

"No idea, but they've disabled Shego...wait, someone tripped the pressure plate alarm on the north side of the driveway..."

"Disabled the Green Babe? How badly is she hurt, Cuz?" Ed growled.

"Not hurt, just unable to function. We have the storm barriers up, they might slow whoever it is down. Also, Kim Possible is here, on our side."

"Red?!? Damn! She pops up at the oddest times, especially here on the Isle! Anyway, I'm on my way, Cuz, hold the fort!" He started to hang up, but Drakken's urgent voice stopped him. "Ed, Wait! I think they've got the roads covered, but that's just a hunch."

Motor Ed grinned. "No problem, Cuz! They'll need to hang two lanterns for me!" He barely gave Drakken time to say 'Huh?' before he disconnected, then began sprinting towards the jetty.

"Eddie!" the little blond whined, "What about me, and the storm!"

Ed skidded to a stop. "Oh, yeah! Get the hammock and the cooler inside, Babe, and batten down the hatches, I don't know if I'll beat the storm back! Later!" He then continued his dash to the boat, while the blond, with a pout, unhooked the hammock and folded it, then grabbed the beer cooler by it's carrying handle. She started towards the house, then stopped as the rumble of twin engines reached her. She stopped, put down her burden, and waved with both hands as the _Flaming Shark _roared away from the jetty.

But as soon as the boat was out of sight, the woman Shego had known as 'Nonnie' at the trade show stopped waving and smiling. Grabbing the items up again, she hurried to the house, mounting the back steps and quickly entering the house, while muttering "About Bloody Time!"

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The maid thought she heard someone talking when she entered the garage, but when she actually spotted Kim Possible, the girl was in the midst of pulling on her mission clothes. Even though Kim was more then decent, the maid politely turned her back and cleared her throat. "Mister Lipsky asked me to come down and tell you about a couple of things that might be useful, other ways out of the garage."

"I already spotted two, those two short ladders and the hatches in the walls." Kim replied, voice briefly muffled as she pulled her top on. The ladders in question were in the walls at opposite sides of the garage, some fifteen feet back from the doors.

"Yes, those lead onto the landings on the staircases leading up to the front door. Also, there is this door at the rear of the garage. It leads to the room where we store the outdoor furniture at times like this. You'll find a ramp leading up to the patio at the back. There is a big door that swings up, using electricity, but you would probably rather use the smaller hatch set into the door, you open that by hand."

"I didn't see any door yesterday," Kim observed thoughtfully, "So I assume it is well hidden?"

The girl nodded. "Yes, it blends in with the flagstones perfectly. It is right next to the hedge on the south side."

"How far from the house?"

The girl frowned in concentration. "Well, the little hatch would be about ten feet or a little more from the passage through the hedge on that side."

Kim tried to visualize the patio as she'd seen it yesterday, then nodded. "Anything else?"

"Yes, he gave me this for you." The girl handed Kim a slip of paper. "It is the access code for his surveillance system, so you can plug in to it. He apologizes for the lack of cameras, he knows it would be beneficial to see how our enemies are equipped." She started to turn away, then looked back at Kim again. "He also wished you good luck. I wish it for you, too." The girl smiled briefly, then turned and ran back to the stairs. Kim stood silently for a moment, again wondering about the strange turn of events, then roused herself and continued her preparations.

Taking out her Kimmunicator, on which she had just finished dictating a brief 'last message' for Ron and Wade, Kim connected with her tech guru. "Wade, I don't have time for explanations, I'm in serious trouble, I need you to connect me with Drakken's security system here. The password is 'A Mistie Forever'." She spelled out 'mistie' to make sure Wade got it right. As she talked, she was walking around the garage, looking at the tools hanging on one wall, then shaking her head, and peering into the touring car. Something caught her attention, and she reached in to remove an old style walking stick from a pair of hooks on the back of the front seat. It was three feet long, made of very solid wood, with a brass ferrule and derby-style handle. She hefted it and nodded in satisfaction.

"Okay, Kim, you're in!" Wade announced. "What's going on? You have to tell me something!" Kim bit her lip, she really didn't have time. But she could manage for Wade's sake. Stick over one shoulder, she studied the Kimmunicator screen as she headed towards the ladder on the north side of the garage. "There's a bunch of armed killers here planning to kill Drakken and Shego. Shego's out of action, so I'm going to try and hold the bad guys off until help arrives."

Wade's eyes widened, but he managed to stay focused. "Okay, do you have the shock shells for the grapple gun?" Kim's hand went to the item in question as she winced. The 'Hair-Dryer' version of the device had long ago been replaced by a sleeker version with a better grip, and the ability to shoot other things besides grappling lines. Like the shock shells, which Wade had modeled on ones designed to be fired from a 12 gauge shotgun. They delivered what was called 'neuroshock' a less damaging form of shock then a standard taser did. Wade had scaled them down, but they still delivered the same amount of shock as the full-sized ones.

Now Kim shook her head. "No, they're back in Middleton. Along with the high-tech combat baton GJ gave me, and the collapsible one I got from Scotland Yard, and of course the _wakizashi_ sword I received from Japan." Inwardly, she was berating herself again. _"How many more ways am I going to find out how naïve I've been about things?"_ Imagining the disapproving look she was sure Wade had on his face only increased her embarrassment. "Wade, believe me, I know how foolish I've been, but now is not the time to discuss this, the bad guys are moving in_, _I have to get moving, too!"

"Kim...good luck!" Wade exclaimed. Kim knew the boy wouldn't be actually gone, he'd be monitoring her from Middleton, probably while frantically trying to come up with some way to aid her. But he'd stay silent to avoid distracting her.

As Kim studied the screen, she could see the movements of the attacking force, but only within the property boundary. Neither Erich Kummetz and Edouard LeMonde were visible as they were outside the surveilled area, nor were Jen Paladin and Sam. Yet. Reaching the base of the short ladder, Kim saw that there was a small shelf at the top. That meant the hatch had to swing outwards. She also saw a a pair of steel bars ready to be swung into place, and the brackets they would fit into to block the hatch from the inside.

Sticking the Kimmunicator in it's holster, she took out the grapple gun and removed the line-firing cartridge and grapple. She replaced it with one that fired the same device that she had used to disable the mercenary on the warehouse roof on the night of the revolution. It fired a nylon net about a foot across, impregnated with chemicals that would irritate but not damage the target's eyes and nose. It was covered with a highly disgusting looking layer of greenish-yellow material that resembled mold, or according to Ron, 'serious snot'. It was purely for effect, discouraging a friend of the target from too quickly trying to remove the net from the victim. In any event, the net's adhesion to skin would wear off in just over a minute, and the target's breathing would not be seriously impeded.

Kim smirked as she thought of Wade's latest 'improvement', the stuff now glowed faintly in the dark. The her face became grim as she contemplated all those items she'd listed to Wade, and others, that she didn't carry simply because they were all too obviously 'weapons', as opposed to 'gadgets', a distinction she had attached a lot of importance to up until now.

Re-holstering the gun, she climbed the ladder and perched awkwardly on the shelf, stick in hand as she pulled out her Kimmunicator again. She watched as the two men who composed 'Blade 3' reached the foot of the stairs and began to ascend. She pointedly ignored 'Blade 6', forced to deal with one problem at a time. She worried if there was any lag in the image, but that was something else beyond her control. She unlatched the hatch, keeping hold of a small handle until she was sure it wasn't going to swing open of it's own volition. Then she took the stick firmly in her left hand, and redrew the grappling gun after putting the Kimmunicator down where she could still watch the screen.

She reviewed her intentions in her head, focusing solely on what she needed to do in the next few moments. Then she tensed, and shoved the hatch open, passing through it fast and low.

The two mercs, already knowing the stairs and the deck above were clear, were trotting up the stairs, one just short of the top, the other just two steps up from the landing Kim had emerged on. Before anything that might alarm him might register, Kim hooked his trailing ankle with the stick and pulled, sending him sprawling hard on the stone steps. At the same time, she raised her gun and aimed at the lead man's head, to catch him in the face as he spun in surprise, which he did.

Kim squeezed the trigger even as something nagged at her, hard. The little net shot from the muzzle and flew halfway to the man before it deployed...and the swirling wind snatched it off course and sent it sailing over the side of the stairs.

Kim's eyes widened in alarm as the merc began to swing his rifle the few degrees necessary to bring it to bear on her, when they were both startled to hear gunfire from the south side of the driveway. Then there was the sound of bullets ricocheting off stone. They didn't sound near to Kim, but the merc took no chances, throwing himself sideways out of sight and down to the deck above.

Kim took not a second to feel the relief that tried to course it's way through her, but turned her attention quickly to the man she'd tripped. He was trying to rise, and she had to deal with him quickly, then his partner above, in the hopes that the secret of the stairway hatches could be preserved. Lunging forward, she brought the stick down hard on the man's head, shielded only by a lightweight fatigue cap. At the same time she saw the possible solution to her gaining an advantage over the other man. As her target sagged once again to the steps, Kim snatched something from his web gear.

Moving quickly up the steps to just short of showing herself through the balustrade at the stop of the steps on her right, behind which the man was now prone, she pulled the pin on the flashbang grenade and shoved it through one of the gaps before ducking once again. She immediately thought of her ninja hood, and berated herself for not digging it out to wear. She heard a startled squawk just before the flashbang exploded, and immediately moved to take advantage.

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Just before the gunfire started, Liam and his partner had reached the wall on the north side of the house, beneath one of the windows. Liam had quickly formed his hands into a stirrup to boost the other man up to try and grab one of the iron window boxes. The man grimaced, he knew there might be some kind of trap, but he put his foot in Liam's hands and lunged upwards. He almost hesitated to grab the grillwork, fearing electric shock, but none occurred.

He breathed a sigh of relief, then took hold with both hands and pulled himself up. It was as he pulled himself up enough to peer over the planter that something weird happened...

Liam had barely straightened up after giving the boost to his partner when some instinct made him look up, just in time to avoid the limp body of the man falling back to the ground. The first thing Liam noticed was a faint dusting of something greenish on the man's face. The big merc cursed under his breath, and made to call Kummetz and tell him the upper windows had some kind of booby trap

But the incident had other consequences. The two men who composed Blade 1 were dashing up the same path Kim had taken on her way to turn herself in the previous day when they saw the man fall. One of these men was the man's brother. All thought of the plan fled his mind as he turned and dashed to where his brother had fallen. His partner hesitated, then followed him.

In addition, the two men from Buckler 2 that were supposed to be heading out front also saw the fall and stopped, though they didn't move towards the fallen man.

Liam saw the two members of Blade 1 approaching, and began to snarl an order at them, when the sound of gunfire caused all of their heads to swivel towards the front corner of the house, from beyond which the sound was coming.

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Kummetz cursed under his breath, berating himself for not bringing a crack sniper to provide overwatch for the operation. The outbreak of firing from the jungle south of the house was not altogether unexpected, but it still caught him by surprise. Two weapons, he'd guessed, one directed at the men of Buckler 1 as they moved to their new positions, the other at the two men from Blade 6 who were trying to ascend the stairs to Drakken's front door. Kummetz saw one of them tumble back to the bottom of the stairs and lie there twitching faintly.

He also saw the lead man of Blade 3 reach the top of his stairs only moments before the shooting started, then spin to dive behind the balustrade alongside the stairs. As the man went prone, he pointed his weapon back towards the stairs, by which Erich naturally concluded that he and his partner had been ambushed on the steps somehow.

He barely spotted the grenade being pushed through the balustrade, though the subsequent flash of the it going off was impossible to miss. Nor was the sight of Kim Possible 'exploding' into sight herself, vaulting the balustrade to finish off the merc who'd been it's victim.

"_Obviously there is some kind of access to the garage, or the house itself, hidden around the stairs, something my inside source either failed to mention, or didn't know about!" _He watched the girl hesitate, crouching, then return the way she came. He'd already seen Liam's misadventures on the side of the house. "_Four men dead or disabled at least, and we aren't even in the house yet!" _He could barely make out the little knot of men around Liam's fallen partner. He muttered a curse, and was reaching for his radio when he spotted one of the Buckler 1 men staggering across the road, cradling one arm. _"Another! This whole plan is coming apart!"_

"That _was_ Kim Possible!" Kummetz started as Edouard made that exclamation. The mercenary turned to regard the local who had stepped up next to him unnoticed coldly._ "It might almost be worth the failed operation, since it would make this fool expendable!"_

Edouard's self-preservation instincts kicked in, and without even looking to see the expression on Kummetz's face, he decided to put some distance between himself and the German. As nonchalantly as he could, he strolled over to where the two men had left their packs, and pretended to rummage through his for something. Kummetz turned away and began talking on his radio again.

"_Yes, I have the feeling this is not working as it should. I'm sure my cousin will see reason in my preserving myself so as to be of use at a future date!" _But at what point was he to slip away, that was the question...

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Kim secured the bars on the hatch she'd used, then dashed across the floor of the garage to the opposite one, which she also secured. Studying the Kimmunicator, she saw that two hostiles had reached the back door of the house. She couldn't see anything to indicate who had been shooting, however. She finally shook her head in frustration and dashed for the door at the rear of the garage.

Entering the storeroom, she saw the patio furniture neatly stacked to one side, and the ramp down which it was brought directly in front of the door. She moved quickly up it, and located the smaller hatch. It was secured by two bolts, that she carefully eased open. She wasn't happy about the fact that the hatch opened away from the house, and one of the men she was after might turn around and spot it rising before she could see him.

As soon as she eased it up, though, a blast of wind blew grit and sand in, and she barely avoided getting an eyeful. More cautiously she raised it and peered at the widening gap back towards the house. She spotted both men, and thankfully they were not looking back towards her. What they were doing alarmed her considerably, however. Rather then attacking the door with it's storm barrier, they were employing a breeching charge on the wall to the left of the door, as she viewed it.

Pushing the hatch farther open, she considered trying the grapple gun again. With the house blocking most of the force of the wind, it might work better. But if it didn't she couldn't expect to get as lucky as she had before again. Emerging completely from the hatch onto the now bare and open patio, she eased the hatch back down, then took a solid two-handed grip on her stick and advanced. Somewhere she could still hear gunfire, but the volume varied as the wind's force did, and she still had no idea who was out there, or how many were on her side. Or Drakken's, anyway.

During training, the two men from Blade 2 were taught how to deploy the breeching charge, with the men of Blade 1 covering them. Despite the absence of the delayed men, they had not adapted, and both had their full attention on properly setting the charge and arming it. Both had their rifles leaning against the wall within easy reach, but not close enough as it turned out. Only at the last second did some instinct cause them to look behind them.

Kim laid one man out with a blow to the jaw. The second took a hit to the forearm to make him drop the rifle he'd tried to snatch up, and Kim followed with a spin kick aimed at his head. But the man managed to block it and land a counter punch to Kim's ribs. But he delivered it with his numb fist and Kim's own motion robbed the blow of much of it's impact. Alarmed, he backed away as the girl recovered and tried to fumble open his holster. But his tingling fingers failed to serve him as Kim bore in again.

She feigned an upward swing towards his groin, and he dropped both hands to try and block it, but Kim simply switched to another spin kick, and this one landed, dropping the man. Kim immediately moved towards the breeching charge to see if it was ready to detonate. She reached without looking towards a pouch on her belt's right side. Then something in her peripheral vision caused her to guide her hand instead to the grappling gun as she spun towards the passage through the northern hedges.

A combination of Liam's threats and Kummetz's orders barked over the radio had forced the two members of Blade 1 to return to their assigned duties, but the brother of the stricken man lingered as his partner moved quickly to meet up with Blade 2. Thus he was well in front when he passed through to the patio and saw Kim Possible standing there. And for to his own misfortune, standing in what was probably the calmest spot, windwise, around the entire house.

Kim had her gun half-drawn even before she identified the threat, and quickly brought it up to fire even as the man began to swing his gun to bear. Truthfully, she might not have made it in time if the man wasn't partially distracted by the sight of the two unconscious men, and possibly the fear he might hit one of them. Then when he saw her fire, and the projectile expand, he nearly brought his weapon up fast enough to hook the little net on it's muzzle, but just missed, and it caught him full in the face.

Though she hated the notion of clubbing the helpless man, Kim knew better then to hesitate. When she had been studying the Kimmunicator's screen, she had seen that all the mercenaries had been moving in pairs, so this one had to have a partner nearby.

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There were now two exceptions to that now, of course. Liam, certain his partner was incapacitated for some time to come, had gone towards the front of the house while haranguing the two men from Buckler 2 for delaying their movement.

The other exception was the third man from Buckler 2 who was still watching the beach. He'd been startled shortly after his teammates left by noises from Shego's cottage, then noticed barriers sliding into place over the windows. These had been triggered remotely by Drakken from the main house.

He was also dissatisfied by his position. With three of them, it had been all right, and when they only had to watch the beach behind Drakken's house, but now that there might be hostiles loose in the jungle, the fact that by himself he couldn't see in all directions caused him to move. He had decided to move to a spot directly below the patio's edge, where he could have his back to the sheer slope down from it, and would only have to look both ways along the beach. The thought that Drakken might have a secret exit hidden there which would allow the merc to be surprised from behind never occurred to him. In any event, that wasn't where his problems came from.

Halfway to his chosen spot, weapon at the ready, he slowed his trot to a stop and listened. He was certain he could hear something, something coming from the water. Scanning seawards, he saw nothing. Since the major force of the tropical storm was hitting the opposite side of the island, the waters on the leeward side were currently relatively calm. But he still was sure he heard something.

Stepping towards the lapping water, he strained to make it out. It was some kind of roar...

The waters only a dozen feet out suddenly exploded upwards, and a large black shape hurtled out of the sea, flying straight towards the shocked man. He just had time to make out the shark's mouth painted on it's underside before it came down...

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Kim had barely risen from delivering the most humane blow she could to render the man unconscious, and peel the net off his face, when she heard a faint sound from the pathway. She was in the same spot Shego had stood when Kim had surprised her, she realized. _"And that was just yesterday?"_ she thought even as she moved forward to meet her next opponent.

But something had given the man warning that there was something amiss. He suddenly popped into view, rifle leveled right at Kim. The girl swung the stick down frantically, barely knocking the muzzle aside and down before the man fired, and sent a three-round burst ricocheting off the pathway. Kim then jabbed at the man's chin with the stick as she lunged forward, catching him alongside the jaw as he flinched away, but not hard enough to do more then cause a little pain.

Rather then try and shoot Kim again, he snapped the butt of his rifle forward and caught Kim with a glancing blow on her own chin that made her recoil, but she snapped the stick downwards and connected with the man's right wrist, this time with considerable force. She then centered herself and kicked upwards at to connect with roughly the same spot from beneath, and the man's grip on his rifle with that hand was lost.

Struggling to hang on to the weapon with his left hand, and distracted by the severe pain of a possibly broken wrist, the man didn't register Kim's next move in time to avoid the leg sweep she delivered, though she almost caught her foot in the hedge before connecting to her brief chagrin. But with the man falling hard on his back, she didn't take long to finish him off.

Rising, she peered out towards the stand of palms near the path junction. She saw no one, and began to reach for her Kimmunicator to check on the location of the other hostiles when she happened to glance back towards the man she had previously dealt with and froze. One of the bullets from the last man's rifle had hit him in the lower leg, and blood was pouring from the wound.

She rushed back to him and knelt to examine the wound. The bullet hadn't gone all the way through the calf muscle, so she only had to deal with the entry wound. Spotting what she recognized as a first aid pouch on the man's belt, she opened that rather then use the contents of her own belt. Producing a field dressing, she quickly and efficiently bound the wound.

She had ended up with her back to the patio as she dressed the wound. Satisfied with her work, she began to rise to her feet when there was a soft noise behind her, and the left side of her head suddenly seemed to explode in pain. Her knees began to buckle, and she would have fallen if someone had not grabbed hold of her and started to sling her around, finally slamming her back first into the wall of the house. Another explosion of pain, this time from the back of her head, and she nearly blacked out as someone rammed their forearm up under her chin.

"I KNEW IT!" The words were practically shouted in her face, "I knew you'd turn up here, after the men at the front were dealt with!" Kim's vision began to clear, at least in her right eye, and she found herself looking into the glaring face of Jailer Dumas. "And now, I get to finish you!" He snarled in her face.

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Okay. As usual, please Read and Review.


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Kim Possible, any of the other characters from that show, or those from any other media I may reference in my stories.

Well, here is where I should acknowledge reviews, but I only received one for the last chapter. But, Thanks to Robert Teague.

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Erich Kummetz clenched his jaw tightly as his companion chattered inanely behind him. The German mercenary leader never took his eyes off the distant house as he tried vainly to ignore Edouard LeMonde's words. In fact his hand was creeping towards the butt of the pistol he had holstered under his coat almost without conscious thought. Then another voice speaking through his radio gave him a merciful distraction.

"Crown, Buckler Two, we have reached the drive. Can you confirm that all hostiles are still south of the driveway?" Kummetz frowned slightly before replying. "Buckler Two, Crown, negative. I do not have a clear view of the entire drive from here, there are one or two spots shielded by trees. There has been no contact with Buckler One, so I cannot confirm anything at this time."

There was a pause before the reply came. "Understood, Crown, wish we'd known that..." The voice was interrupted by a faint shout of alarm, probably from the man's partner, then a muffled report that Kummetz was still able to identify as the discharge of a shotgun. Then the signal cut off altogether. The fierce wind blowing past Kummetz made the actual sound of the shot even fainter, as well as the second one that clearly followed it.

Erich's free handed balled up into the tightest fist he could make as he keyed his transceiver. "Buckler Two, Crown, what is your status?" He had a certain feeling that the call was fruitless, but he had to try. He waited tensely for nearly a minute, but no reply came. Then Edouard, who had gone mercifully silent during the exchange, and begun to use his own binoculars to scan below, spoke up. "Who is that?"

The figure that had appeared among the tree on the far side of the road was visible to the naked eye, but Erich swept his own glasses up to get a better look. The figure was female, and blond, wearing what appeared to be combat gear identical to what his own men were equipped with. She stood boldly, a compact shotgun in her right hand with it's butt braced against her thigh as it pointed upwards and outwards. She stood there for a moment, then as if she knew she'd been seen, spun and vanished back into the trees, a long blond braid swinging behind her.

Kummetz lowered his glasses, a slow, whispered curse slipping from his lips. "Who was that? Do you know her?" Came Edouard's voice again.

Kummetz slowly turned his head to regard the man thoughtfully before replying. "I think we now have the losing hand, _Herr_ LeMonde. Doctor Drakken may have lost one queen, but somehow I believe he's pulled three more from the deck."

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The last mercenary on the North side of the house still functional was the man who had been teamed with Dumas as 'Blade Four'. Now he was alone, alternating between cursing Dumas for leaving him and muttering prayers that whoever was out there in the jungle would either miss him, or give him a clean shot at them. At least there was no way for someone coming from the trees to reach the wall to either side of him unseen and flank him, or so he believed. That is, as long as he kept his head up enough to keep watch, which of course had it's own perils. Nevertheless, he managed to do so, rifle ready to deal death.

So, naturally, his nemesis came from behind him, having slipped up from the beach farther up the slope and worked their way behind him. He never saw Motor Ed Lipsky until two strong hands seized his shoulders and lifted him clear off the ground, then slammed his face into the top of the wall. Twice, which was more then necessary, but Ed's blood was up.

Ed then dropped into a crouch as he scooped up the man's rifle. He had had a shot at another one earlier when the guy who'd almost been flattened by Ed's boat had knocked himself out on some rocks while diving out of the way, but he'd also managed to damage his rifle in the process. Now Ed had a working one, which he checked over as he scanned the jungle. "Now, just who's out there that had you so nervous, Dude?" He muttered.

Then something caused him to spin around, then look upwards from his crouch. His jaw dropped, then tried closing by stages, before he managed to say "Whoa! Seriously!"

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Dumas had Kim pinned to the wall with his right forearm across her throat, with the girl's feet a good eight inches off the ground. His right hand held the collapsible baton with which he'd struck the girl, deliberately not using the tip, which could have shattered her cheekbone, but just the shaft, which had done enough damage. His left arm reinforced the right, pushing hard against Kim's throat, while the two glared fiercely at each other. "I've got you now, you little bitch!" Dumas spat out.

Then he heard a faint 'pop', and suddenly Kim jammed something into his ribs, while a fierce grin appeared on her face. Dumas reflexively hurled himself backwards and out of contact, belatedly slashing at Kim's head with the baton, but too late, he'd already pushed himself too far from the girl to make contact.

Kim was moving as soon as her feet touched down, moving to her left to get clear of the tangled bodies of the two men she'd subdued earlier. Even as she did, she returned the little plastic dispenser of first aid tape to the pouch on her belt, the snap of which had made the 'pop'.

A growled oath emerged from Dumas' mouth as he saw that he'd been tricked. He moved a little away from the house as well to avoid being trapped in a corner formed by the hedge and the wall. He held the baton out to his right. Even though he wore a pistol holstered at his belt, he felt no inclination to draw it. He intended to finish Kim hand-to-hand.

Kim for her part was not too confident at the moment. Her head ached abominably, and the vision in her left eye was badly blurred. There was the taste of blood in her mouth, which she suspected was running down from where she'd been hit on the cheek with the baton. Nausea was also a serious problem. But Kim had once had an instructor in personal combat who had had her practice with one eye closed, so she could see how the lack of proper depth perception affected her judgment. And Kim had naturally begun to carry out some of her practice sessions with an eye-patch covering one or the other eye, just in case it might be useful some day. Now it had, as she closed her left eye completely and began to circle Dumas, trying to restrict his options.

Dumas had already noted her possible Achilles' heel, and made his attack with a rush, making a high overhand swing with the baton. Kim found herself alarmingly slow to respond, just managing to block the swing with her left forearm, fortunately not connecting with the tip, just the shaft. The pain that shot through her arm foretold some serious bruising in her future. If she had one, that is.

Dumas' follow-up was a straight jab at her jaw, but she blocked that to her left with her right forearm and used the momentum to push clear of the man. Then she counterattacked, launching a one-two assault with knee and elbow. Dumas blocked the knee with a twist that caused it to hit his thigh, but he also brought his right arm down to help, and that left him open to the elbow strike that caught him on the cheek.

As he recoiled, Kim spun behind him and kicked him in the back of his left knee, intending to follow up with a chop to the neck when the knee buckled, but her spin caused a moment of vertigo in her nauseous head, and she instead had difficulty staying upright herself. She moved away to allow her vision to clear, angry at herself for the missed opportunity.

Dumas recovered, but also increased the distance between himself and Kim in the process, before turning to face her, again extending the baton wide. Then Kim closed rapidly, and Dumas stepped forwards to meet her. But then Kim dropped and began to spin on her left leg, and Dumas halted abruptly, fearing a leg sweep. His upper torso leant towards the girl as he concentrated on stopping his legs out of Kim's reach, and his arms spread to help retain his balance.

He failed to realize Kim hadn't extended her right leg for a sweep, but kept it cocked back until she had spun so as to line it up. Then she drove off the ground with her left leg as she shot her right out at an upwards angle that might have astonished some. Then the sole of her boot slammed into Dumas' face with a noticeable crunch. The man's head flew back, and the baton dropped from his suddenly nerveless hands as he staggered back to collapse into the hedge, blood streaming from a smashed nose, and from his mouth. His eyes fluttered briefly, then closed as he went limp.

Kim landed in a split, and the jar of doing so sent another wave of nausea through her head. She fell onto her hands, then lowered her face to the flagstones with her eyes closed as she fought the urge to vomit.

She remained with her forehead pressed against the stones for nearly two minutes before she opened her eyes and raised her head, as she brought her legs together. She was looking westwards at the still blue sky in that direction. Slowly she levered herself up to a kneeling position, trying to force herself to remember that there might be more enemies about. Then a voice from behind her caused her to roll quickly over to end up sitting awkwardly as she stared at the opening in the northern hedge.

"Well, well, you've had a good run, haven't you, kid?" Kim didn't know Liam, she just saw a big muscular man with blond hair, and a large pistol holstered on his left hip, wearing body armor, better then what Dumas had, that had limited the targets for her strikes. Liam's expression was calculating, with a touch of predator. And he was far too far away for Kim to get to quickly. She began to run through the items in her belt in her head, trying to remember anything that would do her any good. She kicked herself mentally for not reloading her grapple gun, though honestly she hadn't had the opportunity, really. And the increasing wind made hitting anyone with it problematical, anyway.

Liam made a quick visual sweep of the bodies sprawled around the patio, without completely taking his attention away from Kim. "Oh, yes, you've done pretty well..." His tone went from almost friendly to sarcastic, "For a _fool_! And I mean that, sweetheart. I mean, what kind of fool brings Kung-Fu to a gunfight?" And his hand took a grip on his holstered gun and began to draw it...

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Edouard LeMonde was still looking towards the house, trying to see something, anything! Except for the prone victim of whatever trap had been in the second floor flower box, there was no one to be seen. The wounded man who had retreated earlier had now disappeared, apparently having completed first aid. Edouard cast a look towards where he'd last seen him, anyway. And spotted blue lights winking in the distance. "Mister Kummetz! I can see the police approaching!" Then he turned to find Erich Kummetz slinging his pack over his shoulder. "Where are you going?" Edouard asked, puzzled.

Kummetz gave him a weary look. "This operation has failed, clearly! It's time to withdraw, to plan anew. I'm not done with Doctor Drakken and Shego yet!" He paused to quell the anger in his voice, then resumed more reasonably, "My employers have given me six months, and so far I've only used half. Plenty of time to draft a new plan." He smiled grimly at Edouard. "You're on your own from here, _Monsieur_ LeMonde, I don't think I will be incorporating you in my new plan."

Edouard didn't know how to take that, actually. A sense of underlying relief, but still, his feelings were hurt to be left out. And, how was he to regain his cousin's favor if he didn't contribute to his restoration to power? But before he could decide what to say, he realized Kummetz had already slipped away, leaving him alone. He spun around, as if suddenly aware that he might be alone and surrounded by enemies. He looked skywards. "Lord, protect me, what did I do to deserve this?" And a big fat raindrop hit him right in the eye.

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"If it's a gunfight you're looking for..." the cool, level tone made Liam's head snap to the left, his hand moving away from his gun. Kim also looked towards the opening in the southern hedge, and her eyes widened. At least her right one did, her left was swollen nearly shut.

Kim didn't know Jen Paladin, and studied the newcomer as best she could. The woman stood there, in a stance that seemed both relaxed yet threatening. She held an M-16 by it's carrying handle in her left hand, dangling by her side, while her right hand was free. Kim couldn't see her right hip because she had her left hip slightly advanced towards Liam, and Kim's angle was poor, but assumed there had to be a gun there, with the hand hanging down her side ready to draw it. The woman's gaze was centered on Liam, coolly studying him. She hadn't finished her remark, just left it hanging, since there was little doubt of her meaning.

Then there was movement behind her and Motor Ed stepped into view, dressed in denim cut-offs, and carrying an M-16 himself. His eyes widened, and he sidestepped past the woman and circled towards Kim. Liam backed up enough to keep all his foes in front of him, and ended up with his back to the hedge.

Ed set his rifle down and took Kim under the arms, lifting her up and backing away as he muttered "Better get out of the way, Red, and let these two settle things, Seriously!" Kim was looking at the rifle they were leaving behind on the ground. What if Liam won? Before she could voice any protest, however, Liam spoke up.

"Interesting situation we have here." He deliberately swept his gaze over Jen, pursing his lips. "You've got the lighter weapon, but I've got muscle to compensate for that. And my weapon will punch through that body armor of yours, while yours won't do much good with mine," he patted his chest with his right hand as he said this, seeing whether Jen would be distracted, but her eyes stayed locked with his. "So, you'll have to hit a much smaller target to kill me." Unfortunately he didn't actually know who he was facing, unlike his former leader and lover.

What he did know was that she was a woman, and Liam didn't like women, and not simply because of his sexual preference. And, worst then that, she scared him, though he didn't consciously acknowledge it, and Liam hated to be scared of anything, especially the first woman since his mother to cause such feelings in him. So that combination of facts overwhelmed his reason, and led to his fatal choice.

Ed had barely whispered in Kim's ear "I don't think he's got the nerve, that's one scary lady..." when Kim saw Liam's left hand move. She turned her head away sharply, causing a flare of pain and nausea. Normally it would have been a foolish move, taking her eyes off an enemy, but something told her this time it was all right, and would spare her seeing what happened next.

Two shots crashed out, both so close together as to seem a single shot. Ed's grip on her went slack, then she heard something falling into the hedge. She cautiously turned her head to look. First she saw Jen, sliding her gun back into it's holster and walking towards her. She took hold of Kim's shoulders after handing Ed her borrowed rifle. "Collect all the weapons, and keep an eye on that entry. I think we've got them all, but just to be safe." She instructed him before focusing on Kim.

As Ed stammered an acknowledgment and went to do just that, Jen looked Kim over, face neutral. Looking the girl in the eyes, she asked "Ever had a concussion before?" Kim's eyes had drifted to the half visible corpse of Liam, who had crashed through the hedge at a weak point. Kim noticed that his left hand still held the gun he'd never got to fire in it's grip. Now she looked Jen in the eye, carefully nodding.

"Just once before, this makes my second." She replied sourly. Jen nodded in response, and studied the left side of Kim's face. "If we can't get you to a hospital.." A stronger gust of wind swept over them, and a few drops of rain began to splash on the flagstones, "I guess I'll have to stitch you up here. Don't worry, I've had good training, and plenty of practice."

Kim grimaced at the word 'stitches', which caused a tug of pain from her cheek. Then she faintly heard what might have been the sound of sirens carried on the wind. And an exclamation from Motor Ed. "Whoa, again, seriously!" She looked to see Sam McCarron stepping onto the patio, surveying the carnage before looking to Jen. "All accounted for, you want to go after Kummetz?" She smiled at Kim as she asked.

Jen shook her head as she stood, still bracing Kim with one arm. "No, he won't have lingered this long, probably has a good head start, and a well planned escape. He's also someone I'd rather not hunt in less then ideal conditions. Plus, he isn't part of our contract, we just briefly had conflicting interests." Sam nodded grudgingly at her partner's decision.

Kim was torn between protesting the need for the older woman's support, and acknowledging how weak and unsteady her body was beginning to feel as the adrenalin drained from her system. She reached tentatively up as if to feel the gash in her cheek, then decided she'd rather not. She closed her eyes and tried to push back the throbbing pain from both her head and her left forearm, as well as a few other aches that paled by comparison.

Noises drew Everyone's attention to the back doors of the house, as the storm shutters began to slowly rise. Moments later, several armed policemen came through both openings in the hedges, concurrently with the rain increasing dramatically. It took only moments for it to become a soaking rain.

Kim started to shiver, both from the sudden chill and delayed reaction to the stress of what she'd just been through. Jen hugged her closer. "Let's get you inside, if Doctor Drakken will permit it." She started to guide the girl towards the house, even as Drakken himself became visible beyond the rising shutter.

"Really hate the idea of letting Kummetz walk away." Sam muttered to Ed. "He's not the vengeful type, too professional for that, but he's caused a lot of grief around the world."

Ed nodded, scowling. "Well, maybe you and I can slip away and go after him, give him what he deserves?" He asked in a low voice.

Sam smirked, shaking her head. "No, Jen's right, he's gone by now. Got the whole island to hide on, and this storm to cover him." She sighed, "But, he's got enough enemies, hopefully one of these days one will deal with him."

Ed's scowl deepened. "Maybe, but letting a guy who tried to waste my cousin get away just pisses me off, seriously!" Then a thoughtful look came to his face. He nudged Sam and asked in as low a tone as would be audible just then, "So, uh, babe, that partner of yours have a guy, or is there a chance the Motorman could get lucky there?"

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Erich Kummetz refused to waste breath swearing as he fought through more rain-soaked vegetation. The path had been clear when he had traveled it previously, but the storm was changing all that. Lack of any headgear that would have stayed on and shielded his head added to his misery. But now he could vaguely see his objective, the staging area for his now-defunct force where they had left their vehicles.

Despite everything, a part of his mind was occupied planning his next attempt at removing Drakken and Shego, liberating the ex-President, and generally satisfying his clients. It had been nearly seven years since any plan of his had unraveled so thoroughly, but he had made a comeback then, he would this time as well.

As he forced his way the last few yards to the clearing where the vehicles sat, he entertained and dismissed any thoughts of getting revenge on those individuals whose unexpected involvement had ruined things. Revenge was just not worth it, professionally. He didn't care if he impressed the kind of client who expected him to stomp on anyone who interfered with one of his plans, even after they were no longer a threat. He preferred to impress those clients who believed in containment and control.

He was still thinking that when he passed one last big tree and emerged into the clearing. He never saw an arm extend from the brush around that tree and line up on the back of his head, or hear the shots that killed him. He just pitched face forward into the mud and lay still.

A diminutive figure struggled out of the brush and stood looking at him, even as it unscrewed the sound suppressor from the muzzle of it's pistol. Wearing a jungle camo ghillie suit complete with a now-soaked veil. It regarded him dispassionately for a moment before it swept the veil back to reveal Nonnie's face.

"About time you got here, Erich!" She muttered, even as she peered back into the jungle. Her sensors were surprisingly still functional where she'd placed them, and she knew Kummetz had arrived alone, but it never hurt to be cautious. "Thought I was going to drown waiting for you!" She shook her head as she holstered the pistol, then braced herself as a strong gust of wind hit her. "Now I have to get back to Eddie's shack and play the poor frightened blond airhead again. Would have preferred to have gotten Shego to invite me down, but Ed is kind of fun, in a 'genius caveman' sort of way." She shrugged. "All that mattered though was getting here without going through Customs with my kit. And now, all that's left is to contact Her Majesty's Government and tell them to cut the check."

First she took out a digital camera and got some shots of Erich's face, just for a little proof of the kill. Then she began the hard slog back to where she'd parked. Ed might not make it back until after the storm, but she didn't want to take the risk. Finding the staging area hadn't been hard once she'd started. _"And only here because of a rumor of Erich taking the Drakken job, and because MI-6 didn't want to commit one of their boys to this based on that rumor. Ah, well, nice payday for me!"_

It was nearly twenty minutes after she left that Edouard LeMonde stumbled out of the jungle, tripped over the corpse, and face-planted in the mud. When he'd finished cursing and clearing his eyes, he found himself looking right into the dead eyes of Kummetz, as Nonnie had turned his head to get a identifiable picture.

Edouard was completely vertical almost instantly, head swiveling violently as he tried to look all around at once. Then he dug into his pocket for the keys to the one vehicle he had been allowed a key too, a battered old Land Rover. Sloshing through the mud, he climbed into the driver's seat and was about to stick the key in the ignition when a thought struck him. What if the car was booby-trapped? He'd seen enough movies to know what was happening, someone was cleaning up any loose ends, and he was certainly one.

He jumped back out of the car and looked around frantically. They weren't here to shoot him because they'd left the bomb for him, of course! At this point a wind blown tree shed a coconut which hit the car roof with a resounding bang, and Edouard was in the mud again, then scrabbling across the ground for the cover of the trees. _"I believe my cousin will have to depend upon others for his liberation! I have no intentions of getting involved in this sort of thing, ever again! Still, I wonder if I could write a book..."_

He vanished into the wind and rain-swept jungle, leaving the body and the vehicles to be discovered, totally lacking in booby-traps, when the storm had passed.

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Going to leave it here, and write the wrap-up in a separate chapter. Sorry for the long delay in getting to this, my muse was more productive on my other stories.

Please Read and Review.


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Kim Possible, any of the other characters from that show, or those from any other media I may reference in my stories.

Thanks to King in Yellow, Von Uriken, and Nigeltje for their reviews, brief and otherwise. And to all those who reviewed all or part of this story.

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"_And in other news, Tropical Storm Kimberly has apparently finished it's battering of Isle Drakkon, and is moving west-northwest away from the island. It has also lost a great deal of it's intensity, and may soon no longer qualify as a Tropical Storm, we'll be keeping an eye on that for it's possible effects on the Gulf Coast..._

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Kim Possible opened her eyes slowly, and the first thing she focused on was Shego's face. This caused Kim to roll over to face the opposite wall. She was still feeling guilty about delivering the device that had disabled the woman. The guilt was basically irrational, and she knew it. She had had no reason to suspect anything might happen. But it was just part of her personality, she just felt responsible.

The light in the room was dim, and she could barely make out the sound of the wind still battering against the house, though it seemed much diminished from when she'd fallen asleep. Of course, any noise currently seemed inordinately loud, due to the state of her head. The throbbing _may_ have diminished, but she couldn't swear to it. Her arm still ached as well, though that pain there was definitely reduced. Her left eye was no longer as swollen, but she was willing to bet it was pretty colorful.

She sensed movement, and Sam McCarron came into her view, smiling down at her. "How do you feel this morning? Or rather, afternoon?" She asked softly, checking Kim's forehead for fever. The woman was wearing a pair of baggy shorts and a T-shirt, and Kim noticed how strong she looked. "Bet the head still hurts like hell, huh?" Sam continued sympathetically.

"Yeah.." Kim croaked, suddenly aware of how dry her throat was. "Here, sit up, and drink some water." Sam told her, helping the girl sit slowly up. Kim looked around the bedroom, somewhere on the second floor of Drakken's house, and briefly glanced at the other occupied bed. Shego may have been asleep, but Kim sensed otherwise.

"Here." Sam held the glass out to Kim, who carefully took it with both hands and drank slowly from it. She emptied the glass, and nodded gratefully. "Thanks." Then she looked down at herself. She was wearing a T-shirt obviously meant for someone bigger. "That's one of mine." Sam explained, "Doctor Drakken has a couple of flannel nighties here, but thought you'd prefer this. The nighties were sent by his mother, in case he had a 'lady friend' over."

Kim blinked as she tried to process _that_ image, but then she decided not to strain her brain. Or her empty stomach. She reached up to touch the dressing covering the stitches in her left cheek. She prodded it lightly, wincing more from the memory of being stitched up then any current pain. She then looked over at Shego as a thought occurred to her, and saw that Shego's shoulder was covered with plaid. She suppressed a giggle, but that urge lasted only until she considered her current situation.

She was only still at Drakken's home only because she hadn't wanted to be squeezed into one of the emergency vehicles that had collected the dead and wounded from the battle the day before. It had been hard enough for the emergency personnel to deal with the storm, and Kim had decided to ease their burden, even if only marginally. Even if it resulted in her sleeping in 'enemy territory'.

"That shouldn't scar if you have it taken care of fairly quickly, Kim. I mean, not permanently." Sam told her. Sam also caught sight of a twitch from Shego's eyelids, but didn't react.

Kim grimaced. "I suppose it would be pretty childish for me to suggest keeping it, to remind me of how much of a disaster this trip has been." She groused. She studied the soft cast enclosing her left forearm. She didn't really remember it being applied at all.

Sam's eyebrows rose marginally. "Interesting description, considering the lives you saved yesterday."

Kim started, expression becoming a little anxious. "No! I mean, yesterday, that was all right, stopping those men. Even though I began things by making their plan easier." She glanced over at Shego briefly, then back at Sam. "I know it's irrational to feel responsible, but I do feel guilty, and I'm glad she's going to be all right."

"If that call Doctor Drakken made to her brothers proves accurate, _and_ it's the same stuff that was used on them before." Sam responded.

Kim nodded slightly. "I can't believe they didn't call her and warn her there was something like that around."

"Well, they said that their 'advisors' thought it best not to let the news out that there was something that could do that to them. And apparently, they always take the 'advice' they get from that source." This time Sam caught a reaction from Shego, as she obviously clenched her hands into fists, one of which twisted her covers. Her jaw also seemed to tighten.

"Still..." Kim trailed off, then shrugged. "Who am I to judge? Especially with how poor my judgment's been of late!"

Sam's eyebrows arched quizzically. "Care to explain that remark?"

Kim grimaced, but then sighed deeply and nodded. She then told the story of how she believed she'd been tricked by Shego.(Kim remembered too late her suspicions that Shego was faking sleep, but then decided she didn't care. In any event, she had no idea how much of Shego's senses had returned.) She then described the rest of her adventure. (Sam caught a frown on the 'sleeping' thief's face when Kim described almost falling over her in her hammock) The only places where Kim skimped on the details were, understandably, her 'processing' at the jail, and when describing the fighting the day before. (Sam saw Shego's lips definitely twitch when Kim described defeating Dumas.)

When Kim was done, Sam mulled over what she'd heard, then asked "It really bothers you, not being punished for the crimes you committed?"

Kim nodded emphatically, then winced at the pain it caused her. "Ow! Yes, it really does! I was ferociously irresponsible, but I didn't pay for it. I never wanted to be treated in any special way because of who I am!"

"And you never considered the predicament you put the Government in, having to decide whether to prosecute you and the possible reactions to their punishing you?" Sam asked in a stern tone.

Kim shrugged. "No, I never thought of myself as such a big deal, to be honest!"

Sam took Kim's wrist and checked her pulse as she replied. "It's nice to not let your ego run away with you...(Shego appeared to convulse slightly, but she'd shifted the covers up to hide the lower half of her face, so Sam couldn't tell if she was smirking or not) "...but you should really have a better grasp of how other people see you, Kim."

Kim looked unsettled. "I'm afraid to, in a way," she replied, "Because I might try to live up to everyone's expectations, or believe their exaggerations, and that could get me in a lot of trouble. And cause me to fail the people who depend on me." She sighed again, and lay back on the pillows. "I'm so afraid of disappointing people, it sometimes makes me do things I shouldn't. But coming down here this time, and the last...was me thinking it was my job to keep Drakken in check, as if no one else was out there doing the same thing! It was my personal responsibility, and I couldn't help taking it seriously."

Shego suddenly rolled over to face away from them, and curled up slightly under the covers. Both Kim and Sam watched her for a moment, but she became still. Kim finally looked at Sam "I think that's enough of that subject, I just want to say, it upsets me when people evade justice they deserve, and it really makes me sick to think that now I'm one of those people." She looked a bit sheepish as she asked her next question. "Where's the bathroom? I really need to go, right now."

Sam snorted. "Thought that was coming! It's right there.." she pointed to Kim's left, and the girl turned her head enough to see the door slightly behind her, recessed a foot or so into the wall the beds' headboards rested against. "..let me give you a hand up, then hopefully you can do the rest yourself."

It took a moment to ascertain that, as Kim swayed alarmingly when she first stood up, but she managed to reach the door with Sam's support, then finish the journey unaided, as Sam closed the door behind her, leaving it ajar.

Sam spoke to her through the door. "By the way, Doctor Drakken used your Kimmunicator to contact your friend Wade. After Drakken managed to convince him that he wasn't torturing or experimenting on you, Wade connected him with your Mom." A low groan came from the bathroom. "He relayed the images from when he scanned your arm. That cast stays on for a week, by the way. And then you still have to be careful with the arm. Anyway, your Mom said if you weren't fit to fly home by the time the airport opens, she's flying down here." The sound of the toilet flushing hid Kim's response to that, But Sam had a suspicion it was a tiny bit profane.

"I'm not going home yet!" Kim declared as she emerged from the bathroom, still a bit unsteady on her feet, but dealing. After a brief hesitation she moved back to the bed and sat down stiffly, knees together and hands folded in her lap.

"Oh? Why not?" Sam asked as she leaned against the wall and folded her arms across her chest.

"Hello?" Kim spoke a little too loudly, and looked across at Shego before continuing in a softer tone, "There has just been a major storm, the people here are going to need help, aren't they?"

Sam sighed, then addressed the girl gently. "It's hardly their first, or worst, storm, Kim. And it won't be their last, obviously! They have plenty of experience with cleaning up, and they'll do just fine without you. Right now, you need to consider what's best for you."

"I'm fine!" Kim snapped, then winced and put her fingers to both temples. "All right, I'm not at my physical best!" she conceded, "But I can still be of use to people."

"No doubt." Sam agreed, "But it might not be good for you, Kim. I see the signs, you're still under a lot of pressure, all of it self-inflicted." Kim gave her a suspicious, borderline hostile, glare and started to reply, but Sam overrode her protests. "You don't handle failure well, do you? And despite the favorable outcome of all this, you still see much of what's happened here as your personal failure. Failure to think things through properly, failure to heed advice, failure to outsmart Shego, by not falling for the trick in her first place." She paused as if deciding on her next words, then continued, "And something else you haven't brought up." Kim looked at her apprehensively. "You feel responsible for the death of that constable, don't you."

Kim's eyes dropped, and she looked down at her fidgeting hands in her lap. "He wouldn't have been here if I hadn't decided to 'punish' myself by apologizing to Doctor Drakken for barging in on his meeting."

"True enough." Came a voice from the bedroom door, startling Kim, and Shego as well, if Sam was any judge. Jen Paladin stood in the doorway, wearing a pair of baggy shorts like her partner, along with a gray tank top over a dark blue sports bra. "But if you think self-inflicted punishment is a good substitute for what you really want, you're being delusional." The tall mercenary sat down in a large wicker backed chair near the door. She ignored a disapproving scowl from Sam.

Kim bristled for a moment, then suddenly her expression went blank. After a moment she looked down at her hands again, and responded in a slightly petulant tone, "You think I just want to help as a way of doing penance, don't you?" Her voice got a touch angrier, "Well, that's not it! I want to help people, I've always...it's what I _do!_"

"That would be your normal motive, yes." Jen responded calmly, "But not this time, this time you're driving yourself to help you try and forget, to lose yourself in the work, to substitute a different kind of pressure for what you're feeling right now. And you need to succeed to release that pressure, because you've never been able to let the pressure off yourself. But any success you have helping people won't be enough this time."

Kim was looking at her now with wary curiosity as the woman continued. "Right now, your body isn't up to the stress you're mind will force you to put it through, in your drive for release from what's driving you. So it might fail you, and fail others, with possibly graver consequences." Sam's expression was also merely curious now as she listened to her partner's words.

"With your personality, this sort of thing can hardly be new for you, Kim. And the fact you're not a nut case right now because of it tells me you have a 'pressure release valve', it's just not inside you. If I were to guess, I'd say it's probably male, with blond hair and brown eyes, and I'd advise you to go wherever he is, and let whatever happens between you two to keep you sane happen."

Kim sat their blinking, jaw slightly slack, for a long moment. Then her mouth started working, but it took a few false starts before coherent words emerged. "Ron's n—not my b—boyfriend!" She stammered.

"He doesn't have to be." Jen replied reasonably, "He just has to be someone you have a connection with, a camaraderie, a love, even if it's not romantic."

"B-but Ron, keep me sane? That's crazy! In fact, sometimes he drives me..." Her voice trailed off as she began to remember things.

Sam gave her lover a smile as she circled around the room to Shego's bed. She could tell that the thief was having a hard time not squirming, probably from embarrassment. "How are you feeling?" Sam asked, and Shego chose to forgo any further pretense.

She opened her eyes and looked at Sam, then shrugged, "I'm feeling fine, but my vision is still a little blurry, my hearings not as sharp." She half-turned her head towards the other bed, "But not dull enough, either. Who the hell are you, anyway?"

"Someone who was on your side _this_ time, that's who." Sam answered with a grin, which soured Shego's disposition even more. She tossed back the covers and sat up.

"Need to get back to my own house, tired of this lying around!" She groused.

"Not a good idea, according to Doctor Drakken." Sam told her, "He says there may be some lingering side effects, based on your brothers' experience, and worse for you, because you caught a concentrated dose of whatever drug it was. In any event, he says it's not safe for you to be alone. So, if you go, somehow he's going to want to keep track of you. Even if he has to move in with you."

Shego's eyes widened, then became thoughtful. "He'd do it, too." she muttered, and started to lay back down. Then she hesitated. "Snap, I need to go, too!" She got out of bed and walked carefully around the bed, peering fuzzily at Jen as she passed.

Kim looked up as she passed by, her mind returning from wherever it had wandered. After Shego vanished into the bathroom, Kim looked at Jen. "You might have a point." She conceded, "But it still feels rotten for me to just leave here without trying to help. But...you're right, this isn't the first time I've felt this way, and my judgment wasn't too great the other times, as far as what I was capable of doing."

She broke off as Motor Ed appeared in the doorway. He looked around the room , nodding warily at Jen and Sam, and regarding Kim speculatively. "Where's She-Babe at?" Kim started to point towards the bathroom when Shego's voice made it unnecessary.

"I thought I made my feelings clear about being called that, Eddie?" came her annoyed tones, muffled of course by the door.

Ed didn't seem to pick up on the annoyance, or it didn't bother him much. "Hey, Green-Babe! Look, just wanted to let you know I'm headed back to my own crib, left a chick there when I came to the rescue."

Curiosity apparently triumphed over nausea. "A chick? You left a woman alone in that overblown grass shack of yours, in a tropical storm?" Shego emerged from the bathroom as she spoke, now wrapped in a bathrobe over the flannel nightgown.

Ed made a dismissive wave. "Ah, she's cool, and that house of mine can take more then this little storm had in it! Her name's Janey, by the way." He adopted his 'air guitar' stance, and sang "Janey's got a gun, Janey's got a gun, her whole world's come undone..."

The Patron Sain tof Irony was probably the only one who appreciated Ed's musical effort. Kim pressed her fingers to her temples as she winced. "Eddie! Eddie!" Shego almost shouted, "Please! We have one serious headache here..." she pointed at her own head, "And the Princess doesn't look too good, herself!"

Ed broke off abruptly, actually looking abashed. "Sorry, Red..." he addressed Kim, "Heard you had a concussion from that jailer bastard, but I forgot!"

Kim nodded carefully. "It's okay, Eddie, I'm a little better then yesterday." Then she caught Shego staring at her out of the corner of her eye, and turned her head enough to see the thief. "What?"

"Dumas was involved in the attack?" The woman asked, venom practically dripping from her words. Kim, who had tought Shego was listening earlier, now had doubts. Was Shego that good an actress?

"Hell yeah!" Eddie exclaimed loudly, then winced as he saw Kim do the same. "Sorry, Red! But yeah, he blindsided Red, and she still kicked his butt! Cops got him now, and bet he's not happy!" He stopped, then grinned widely "If he's even regained consciousness, that is!"

Kim grimaced, even as Shego cast a look at her that was almost admiring. But then her face resumed it's normal expression. "Well, that's hardly a surprise that Kimmie could beat that schmuck up." She muttered sarcastically, then returned to her own bed and climbed in, pulling the covers up over her bare legs. Looking at Ed, she said, "Better get a move on, Eddie, your little girlfriend might need rescuing, or something!" a trifle dismissively then folded her arms and sat there.

"Yeah, well, get well soon, you hear?" Ed replied, and after waiting a moment with no response, he almost waved to Kim before thinking better of it, and left.

Sam regarded the thief narrowly. "What's got you so upset, missing out on the action, or that you were taken out so easily?"

Shego's jaw dropped briefly then her temper flared. "Listen, if the little princess hadn't brought that package in..." Kim flinched guiltily, just as Sam cut Shego off.

"What? You'd have scanned it, made sure it was safe before handling it? No, because it was set to go off in proximity to you, and there was no reason you wouldn't have picked it up and set it off, maybe when you were alone in your own cottage, and then what? One of those guys would have just walked in, and put a bullet in your head! And even if you set it off up here, who was there to defend you and your boss? Two unarmed security men! If Kim hadn't been here, most likely you'd all be dead. Provided you remembered to bring in the mail before the storm hit!"

This time Shego flinched, and her eyes briefly lost focus. She had been planning to do just that, moments before Kim arrived. _"I might have set the damn thing off right there at the mail box, in plain sight of those bastards!" _But her expression only became more sullen. "Fine!" she spat out, "So I owe her, that's between me and her, okay?"

0000000000

Kim found Shego's attitude a great motivator to get up and get out of the bedroom, along with her increasingly insistent stomach. A maid brought her her clothes, and she took her 'civvies' outfit into the bathroom and changed, then headed downstairs. The maid hovered at her elbows as she descended the stairs, and Kim did appreciate the action on one level, but she also felt irritated about the necessity.

The smell of food made her stomach rumble with embarrassing loudness, and she soon found herself working hungrily on a plate of scrambled eggs and sliced fruit. It was after all her first meal of the day, so eating 'breakfast' in the afternoon didn't seem the least bit odd. But she restrained herself from asking for seconds, she'd eaten so fast, nearly at the 'speed of Ron', that she had to give it time to settle before she could judge how full she was.

Jen Paladin walked in while Kim was weighing that decision. The woman had swapped a pair of jeans for her shorts. And she was wearing her holstered .45. Kim regarded the weapon with a thoughtful frown. Then as Jen sat down with a plateful of food, prepared by Drakken's cook, Kim asked "I don't remember clearly, but did I ask who you were yesterday?"

"My name's Jennifer Paladin, and yes, you did, just before I started my needlework. I have to say, you took the whole thing pretty well, but I suppose that shouldn't surprise me, you have a reputation as a pretty tough young lady."

Kim grimaced and involuntarily reached up to touch the dressing covering the wound when the stitching was mentioned, and her expression soured further at the compliment. "I wish my reputation was a little better deserved. This whole mess, no matter how it turned out, wasn't exactly a shining moment for me."

Jen snorted between sips of coffee. Setting the cup down, she smiled slightly as she replied. "Reputations are important, but we can't always control them, or live up to them. Just remember never to 'live down' to one."

Kim grinned wryly back. "I think I give that advice to Ron all the time, just not in those words. But the funny thing is, he pretty much invented his own reputation himself. It's funny, most people...adults that is, can differentiate between my real exploits and the ones Ron writes, and don't expect too much from me, so I often end up impressing them. But then they accept the wrong version of Ron's rep!" She shook her head slowly, then thought of something, " But I wanted to ask, why exactly did you get involved in this?"

Jen took a few moments to reply as she continued eating. "Well, if I didn't have the client's permission, I wouldn't say a thing. But, Peyton Hillsbury hired Sam and me to make sure your arrest was kosher, and not part of some evil plot by Drakken to dispose of you. After that little scene at their lunch meeting, which was held basically to reassure him that Drakken had nothing to do with the governing of this country, he had suspicions. Our job was to make sure you left Isle Drakkon safely, unless you were legitimately prosecuted, so we were involved in what happened yesterday just by doing our job."

Kim was stunned for a moment as she digested this. "You know...I didn't want them to just let me off the hook, the way they did?" she asked hesitantly.

Jen nodded "Yes, and I understand your feelings about it, believe it or not. You're relieved that you didn't get locked up, but you're not happy about the reasons you weren't. I've encountered more cases of this sort of thing then you can imagine. I mean, Governments have to act in their own best interests, that's unavoidable. But I have to say the results this time aren't regrettable, unlike some others occasions I've witnessed."

"Kimberly" Drakken's voice cut off Kim's next question, as he entered the dining area holding her Kimmunicator, "Would you please answer this thing, it's been going off every ten minutes it seems, and it's driving me crazy!"

Kim practically snatched the device from him and activated it, then compulsively reached up as if to cover the dressing on her cheek before realizing she was too late. As Wade's face resolved itself on screen, his eyes widened. "Kim! Drakken said you were hurt, how bad is it?"

"No Big, Wade!" She replied with a fair semblance of her usual cheery self, "I have some stitches in my cheek, a ferocious headache, and a cracked bone in my forearm. Other then that, just some of the usual bumps and bruises."

Wade looked suspicious, but nodded as he began to type. "Going to need cosmetic surgery on your cheek? Do you want Doctor Beaufox to do it?"

"Um, yes, and 'not so much', Wade." Kim replied.

Wade nodded, "Doctor Eckon, then? He owes you a favor."

Kim hesitated "'Call-me-Syl', you mean? I guess he's all right."

"Okay, I'll set it up."

"Please and Thank You. Um, can you tell me when the airport will be open?" Kim asked.

"Latest word is, the winds are dying so quickly, it should be a matter of hours, depending how fast they can clear the runways of debris. Late evening, at the latest. But, you probably won't be able to get a flight out until tomorrow." Wade added apologetically.

Jen spoke up. "If you're anxious to find other accommodations, Mister Hillsbury has several rooms reserved for his staff at the Hotel Coloniale_, _and some are empty, so he offered one to you if you'd like it."

Kim hesitated, then looked at Drakken, who was munching on a pear. "It's not that I don't trust you, after the way you've treated me, but this is still kind of awkward, you know? And Shego isn't exactly..."

Drakken waved one hand to stop her as he swallowed. "No need to explain, Kimberly, I do understand. And now that you're fully conscious, I'd like to repeat something I told you yesterday, that I'm very grateful for your efforts to protect me, Shego, and my staff yesterday. I know this wasn't your kind of 'sitch', and I appreciate how dangerous it was for you. You have my heartfelt gratitude, as well as that of my employees." The cook smiled at Kim as Drakken said this, and she found herself blushing. It took her a moment to respond.

"Thank You, Mister Lipsky. And I'd like to finish what I tried to do yesterday, apologize for disrupting your meeting with Mister Hillsbury." Drakken beamed at her, and nodded graciously. The total weirdness of that situation was just beginning to make Kim's eyes turn glassy when Wade's voice issued from the still active Kimmunicator.

"Uh, Kim? Doctor Director asked me to connect her to you as soon as I heard from you, and I have her, should I connect you?" Kim's familiarity with Wade told her he didn't think the talk would be pleasant for Kim.

Kim looked around, "Does she think this should be a private chat, Wade?"

"Uh, that's probably an affirmative, Kim." Her tech genius replied.

Kim stood up, a little too quickly, and swayed unsteadily for a moment. "Ask her to give me a minute to find somewhere quiet." she told Wade. She smiled apologetically at the others in the room, then exited. She turned towards the back doors, but then winced and turned away. Then a thought struck her, and she headed for the door leading down to the garage.

Once there, she walked over to the open touring car, and after hesitating briefly, opened a door to climb into the back seat. She noticed that the walking stick had been restored to it's place at some point, and she briefly ran her fingers over it before addressing Wade again. "Okay, Wade, put her through." she said resignedly.

Betty Director's face was absolutely impassive as it came onto the screen, apparently in her office at her desk. "Kimberly." She began in a totally neutral tone of voice, that nevertheless sent a chill of apprehension up Kim's spine. "I only found out that you were on Isle Drakkon this morning, and I have to ask, what exactly was your purpose in going there?"

Kim had a _very_ certain feeling that Betty already knew the answer. She squirmed uncomfortably on her seat, and suddenly became acutely aware of just how cool the garage was. "I had information that Drakken was planning a meeting of a suspicious nature, Ma'am." She replied in as composed a manner as she could manage.

Betty showed no particular interest as she casually asked. "And did the information pan out, Kimberly?"

Kim grimaced. "No, Ma'am it was a trick."

"A trap?"

"No, Ma'am, just a trick, and I fell for it." Kim admitted sheepishly.

"I see." Betty appeared to be studying something on her desk for a moment, before she looked up again. "And how did you receive your injuries?"

"Some people tried to kill Doctor Drakken and Shego, and I got involved in stopping them." Kim wondered if Wade had already told some of this to Betty, but the boy was keeping silent. _"Not that I blame him."_

At least this time Betty failed to hide her interest in Kim's announcement. "The attack failed, I assume?" She asked after a moment's pause.

"Yes Ma'am, the attackers were defeated. Doctor Drakken and Shego are fine, but a policeman got killed, and I think it's my fault!" She blurted the last part out on impulse, and again cracked Betty's facade.

It only took her a moment to recover from the surprise. She frowned as she spoke again. "How do you come to think that? No wait, you might as well start from the beginning, give me a summary of events, as you saw them."

Kim took a deep breath, licked her lips nervously, and began. She tried to keep her emotions reigned in, but wasn't very successful. When her account was done, she was surprised to find herself perspiring, and shivered in the coolness. She just gave Betty the basics, without going into details about her role in defeating the attack.

Betty took a minute to absorb it all and choose her response. Then she dealt with business first. "Firstly, did you see the leader of the attackers, Kim?"

"I saw the man who used to be the head jailer here, Dumas, he's been captured." Kim replied.

Betty shook her head. "No, it wouldn't have been him, it would have been a foreigner, did you see any non-islanders?"

Kim nodded. "There was a big man with blond hair...he was about to kill me, when he was killed by Miss Paladin, instead."

That caused Betty's eye to widen in surprise. "Miss Paladin? What is she doing there? And no, that wasn't the leader...did he carry a large revolver?"

"Yes Ma'am. And Miss Paladin is here because of me, too." Kim explained about Peyton Hillsbury's hiring of the two mercenaries. Then a nagging memory jumped to the front. "Oh! Miss Paladin's partner mentioned going after someone named...not sure how she pronounced it..."

"Kummetz?" Betty prompted her.

Kim nodded, smiling. "That's it! She asked Miss Paladin if they should go after him, but she said he was probably gone, or had too much of a head start, especially with the storm on top of us."

Betty hid her disappointment at Kummetz's presumed escape with difficulty, and chose to put it aside for the moment. "I have to say that I'm quite disappointed in you, Kimberly. Hard as it is for me to say this, I feel I must. Professionally, I have to agree that you should have suffered some legal penalty for your actions, though I understand the locals' point of view. Personally, I'm glad you weren't incarcerated, of course." She paused, and though Kim couldn't see them, she knew Betty had clasped her hands on her desk in front of her. "I hope that this time you not only learned a few lessons, but won't forget them again."

Kim flinched, but the words brought something else to mind. "I hope so too, Ma'am!" she replied sincerely, "And speaking of lessons, I wonder if I can take some more...advanced courses at the training center?"

"I'm sorry, Kimberly, but the answer is no." Betty's flat reply startled Kim, and her face fell as the woman continued. "I'm afraid for the moment, I have to suspend your privileges regarding GJ. In case you didn't know, a few people in the US government think you work for us as a 'deniable asset'. Only a few, and I maintain that I do not have any such thing as a deniable asset, but still, your actions sometimes do cause them to make assumptions, and occasional accusations."

"I didn't know that." Kim answered disconsolately, eyes downcast, "I'm sorry, and I understand your decision. It may not have been such a good idea to go through with what I was thinking of, anyway."

Betty tried not to be to obvious by hastening to reply. "Now don't misunderstand, this is only temporary, Miss Possible. I'll let Mister Load know when your privileges are restored. Now, I really have to go, Abby just walked in with her 'I'm here with the weight of the world to put back on your shoulders' look, so I need to get back to work. I wish you a speedy recovery, Kimberly. Please take care of yourself." Then she broke the connection.

Kim sat in silence for a moment before Wade's voice came from the Kimmunicator. "Wow, that was kind of harsh, Kim!"

"Was it?" Kim asked quietly. "Well, good! Because I have the feeling that I have been getting off too easy this whole trip, about time I took a real hit!" She exclaimed vehemently, then winced as pain flared in her temples. "In a manner of speaking, of course!" She declared in a somewhat quieter tone. Then she smiled tiredly at the worried expression on Wade's face. "Wade, going to sign off, and see if I can get a ride into town to use that hotel room. If at all possible, I'll be home tomorrow, 'kay?"

Wade nodded slowly, unsmiling, "Okay, Kim, whatever you say. At least your Mom will be relieved that she doesn't have to rearrange her schedule to fly down there."

That caused Kim to frown. "So not necessary, Wade, I can...well, I appreciate all your concern, I truly do. See you tomorrow, but do me a favor, don't tell Ron I'm on my way back, okay? Want to surprise him."

"Well, glad I don't have to tell him anything, I haven't been keeping him up to date on your adventures, he's not going to be happy with me, I think." Wade replied.

Kim shook her head, still smiling. "It won't last, I promise. Not in his nature. And it was partially my fault, anyway."

"If you say so..later, Kim!" Wade signed off, and Kim let herself sag into the comfortable leather seat, her falling back to rest on the back, eyes closed. _"Take care of myself, I was going to say. Might have been a bit presumptuous there!"_

Feeling herself beginning to drift off, she brought herself back with an effort. She again ran her fingers along the walking stick, feeling for any damage it might have suffered, but found none. Then she climbed out of the car and walked slowly back up the stairs.

Jen and Sam ended up taking her back to Port Marie. She slept part of the way there, and the two women made sure that she had some soup in the restaurant before escorting her up to her room. They then left to go back to their own hotel, and Kim undressed as she staggered across the room and climbed into bed.

The following morning she was facing the necessity of wearing the same clothes again when there was a knock at the door to the room. Wrapped in the obligatory fluffy white courtesy robe, Kim answered, to find Priscilla Hillsbury standing there, holding what appeared to be some folded clothing in her hands.

"Um, hi." the girl greeted her nervously. Which was odd, considering her reputation as a very outspoken party girl. "I heard..I mean, Miss McCarron said you were short of clothes, so I thought you could use these jeans, and this top. Don' think you'd care for my taste in underwear, though." She said apologetically as Kim stepped back to allow her to enter the room.

"Wow! That's..very nice of you, Thanks!" Kim managed to reply.

Priscilla blushed. "Oh, it's...nothing, I—I actually just wanted to meet you, to be honest! I mean, meet you in better circumstances then the other day, you know?"

A little embarrassed, Kim still managed to answer with a grin. "Oh, yes, believe me, I know!" She took the proffered clothes. "I'll just.. go try them on for size, then we can talk. I have to find out when I can catch a flight out."

"OH! Well, Daddy and I are leaving at noon, if you can wait that long, we can fly you to Houston, and you can connect from there."

"Spankin!" Kim replied, then stepped into the bathroom. "Be right back!" She soon reemerged wearing a ruffled blue crop top and jeans, which were just a little loose, but hardly likely to fall down. "These are great, Thanks again!" She enthused.

Priscilla blushed again. "Like you say, No Big! Want to go scare up some breakfast? I'm starving, to tell the truth."

"Sounds good." Kim replied, finding her sandals and slipping them on. Then the two teens headed out.

0000000000

Kim was very surprised to see President Lucas approaching her as she stood outside the airport terminal waiting for the Hillsburys' private jet to taxi over after landing. She was especially surprised to see him smiling warmly at her.

"Miss Possible, I'm so glad I caught you before you left us!" He held out his hand, and she took it after a moment's consternation. "I just wanted to let you know that despite everything, you have certainly _not_ worn out your welcome here on Isle Drakkon, and I still expect to see you back here to enjoy some vacation time in the future."

Kim had to take a moment to compose herself to avoid stammering her reply. "I'm very glad to hear that, Sir. Also a little surprised, to tell the truth!"

"Understandable, Miss Possible. And, I suppose it's odd for a public official to be so gracious to someone who escaped justice, but in truth, had we jailed you, things would have been very different yesterday, and possibly in the near future, here on Isle Drakkon. So, even if the decision was questionable, the outcome has been most satisfactory. Just don't do it again, please?"

Kim blushed, and this time did stammer a bit. "I—I'll do my best not to make you regret your decision any more, Sir! Provided...no never mind, I'll just give you my word, if that's enough."

"Of course it is! Now, Are you sure you're fit to travel?" He studied her black eye, bandaged cheek, and the cast on her arm.

Kim nodded decisively. "I'm _so_ fit to travel, and anxious to get home to my family! And I will come back, hopefully with them, and Ron."

"I look forward to meeting that young man." Lucas answered, then looked at one of his security men, and then his watch. "And now, I must go, there's a lot of things to deal with, both resulting from the storm, and what happened at Doctor Drakken's. At least we know the man who organized the assault is dead, his body was found this morning." He frowned. "But as to the people who hired him? Well, that's another story. But, that's not your problem, and I _mean_ that, Miss Possible. I think you were very lucky yesterday, I don't want to ever be responsible for pitting you against such men again." He shook her hand again, then returned her bow. "Godspeed Miss Possible."

The President had barely departed when another familiar face appeared. Angelique Grenier. The young woman, in uniform, walked over with a smile on her face. "So, you're leaving us?"

Kim nodded. "Yep! About time, wouldn't you say?"

Angelique shook her head. "I wouldn't, but I can understand if you choose to. Let me say that I hope I never see you naked again, unless it's on the north beach after the little resort up there is built."

Kim went through a two-stage blush at her words, then grinned and pointed at her reddened face. "Not unless you want to see all of me this shade, I burn easily." Angelique chuckled, and Kim asked, "Are you out helping with the clean-up, or busy at the jail."

Angelique shrugged. "Only got the one prisoner there, the maid from Mister Lipsky's who was helping the killers." Her face sobered. "I'm very glad I don;t work the men's section, especially the downstairs, I don't think I'd care to see Dumas every day. Man got poison in his eyes, especially for you. You did a number on him, that be sure."

Kim noticed the shift in her speech, but didn't comment. Another question was prominent in her mind. "Sophie coming back as soon as her family's okay?"

Angelique grinned widely. "No, her parole is continuing. Mister Lipsky has hired her as a housekeeper, to look after Miss Black's house."

Kim's eyes bulged as her jaw dropped. "S—she's going t—to be Shego's housekeeper?" She closed her eyes and put one hand to her forehead, massaging her brow. "Oh, that cannot end well!"

"You might be surprised, Kim!" The woman replied. "Now, I have to go, just wanted to say goodbye, and tell you I will contact your website when I go to the US for my training. If you're too busy to get together, I'll understand, especially if you're back in school by then, that's far more important."

"Well, if there's any way to make the time, I'll make it." Kim assured her. They clasped hands, then Angelique left as the Hillsburys emerged from the terminal. Kim turned to see the jet almost to them. She took one more look around at the place where she'd first arrived on Isle Drakkon, under totally different circumstances. Then she sighed, and picked up her gear, and trudged over to the plane as it rolled to a stop. _"Some day..."_

0000000000

Ron Stoppable stood with arms crossed, studying a puzzle. Besides him, a female Counselor named Amy Lindsey stood, also with her arms crossed, and also having difficulty not smiling. "To tell you the truth," She told Ron, "The smart money was on you to end up like this first."

Gently swinging back and forth, suspended in an intricate webwork of ropes, a gag in his mouth, Ron Reger glared angrily at them. He was currently a good seven feet off the ground, and Ron wondered how many of their charges had been required to hoist him that high.

Amy looked at her watch. "Well, time to get my group in the lake for swimming lessons, I'll have to leave it to you to find a way to get him down...without cutting the ropes, which are camp property, of course!" She abandoned any effort to hide her amusement as she walked away and left Ron alone to contemplate Reger's predicament.

In truth, Ron had a talent for ropework and knots, and had already figured out the answer. But Reger had bailed on arts and crafts and archery classes for some of the kids, leaving Ron to cover for him, and he owed Reger just a little payback for those experiences.

"Well, at least it isn't you swinging there!" came a familiar voice, and Ron spun around with a huge smile spreading across his face. There stood Kim, smiling back at him. He took in the cast and bandaged cheek, as well as the colorful eye, but those were pushed aside by the need to simply greet her.

"KP!" He rushed over and hugged her, the hug being returned with interest. "I'm so glad to see you, I heard a storm hit Isle Drakkon, and I was going to try and get there, but Wade said he'd heard from you, and that you'd be coming home as soon as the weather cleared!" Now he studied her injuries. "What happened? Did Shego do any of that to you?"

Kim rolled her eyes. "Not even close this time, Ron! In fact, Shego was out of action at the time, because of something I'd done, or maybe she'd have the bruises!" _"But not likely!" _She thought. Seeing Ron's puzzled look, and wanting to forget Isle Drakkon for a while, she shifted the conversation to the current sitch. Looking intently at Reger, she asked, "What happened here?"

The distraction worked, at least for the moment. "Oh, not sure, KP." Ron replied, "Other then some of the kids did it. Won't know how it happened until we get him down and he tells us!" He then leaned closer to Kim and whispered, "That is, _if_ he tells us!"

Kim bit her lip to keep from grinning as she walked over and began to study the ropes and knots. "Hmm..." Inside her, she barely noticed something slowly uncoiling, a tension she barely acknowledged consciously, slowly easing as the very proximity of her best friend and a simple problem to solve caused her to let go of her self-imposed displeasure at some of the things she'd experienced.

Boyfriend or not, Ron Stoppable was a cure for some of Kim's problems, of that there was no doubt.

Kim noticed Reger's hopeful look, and smiled. "This may take a little while, but I'll get you down. Painlessly, I hope." As Reger moaned in response(He'd drunk a considerable amount of soda before being strung up, and was experiencing the consequences), Ron's lips twitched as he tried vainly to suppress a smile. He'd let Kim try and figure it out. If Reger's level of distress went too high, Ron would find a way to 'help'. _"But can't guarantee the 'painless' part, it'll hurt a bit to fall from there."_

The sounds of campers singing somewhere nearby, and the gentle breeze as she worked through the problem in her mind caused Kim to smile happily. A couple of days at Wannaweep, then she'd see to her face. For now, it was business as usual for Team Possible.

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And so it ends. I'll start the sequel, which will be called 'Bad Times in Go City', a change from my original title, as soon as I've devoted some time to my other story.

For now, please Read and Review, let me know how this story rates overall, and any flaws you see in my writing. Thanks


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